[Thursday, October 12, 2006 ~ Location: Manhattan, New York ~ 6:32 AM]
Grayson stirred from his sleep as the first rays of dawn began to peek through his window, casting a golden hue across his room. He stretched his limbs, feeling the familiar but lingering soreness in his muscles—a testament to the hard work he had put into his training. The routines he had once struggled with now flowed more effortlessly; every push-up felt smooth and rhythmic, his body moving in perfect harmony with the demands of the exercises. Squats came easier too, allowing him to sink deeper, grounding himself with each movement, while his breaths transformed into measured, steady inhales and exhales as he focused.
Determined to chase that exhilarating sound of the System chime, he pushed himself to extend every rep, finding that familiar thrill in his exertion. Grayson's knuckles were tightly wrapped in layers of crisp, white tape, each twist carefully applied to protect his hands while symbolizing the dedication that had transformed him. His breaths flowed in steady, measured rhythms, filling his lungs deeply and rhythmically, a stark contrast to the frantic gasps that had defined his earlier struggles. He repeated the fighting stances he had learned from attending a gym near the area 2 weeks ago, he started training in Boxing. The shift in his physique was striking; he was leaner than ever before, every muscle finely defined and sculpted, the result of relentless training and commitment that had unfolded over the past month.
The System's daily quests, which had once felt like an insurmountable test of endurance, a punishing gauntlet littered with challenges that left his body aching and his spirit drained, had gradually evolved into a ritual he embraced with enthusiasm. No longer a source of dread, these challenges had become a sacred part of his daily routine, a canvas upon which he could paint the story of his evolution. His physical form had sharpened with astonishing precision; muscle had seamlessly knitted itself over bone, providing him with an agile strength that was both powerful and graceful.
With each quest each day for the past month, he could feel his endurance blossoming, both physically and mentally. It was as if he had tapped into a wellspring of resilience, enabling him to push through the exhaustion and discomfort that had once dragged him down. His newfound mental fortitude allowed him to approach even the most daunting obstacles with a strategic mindset, turning trials into triumphs and fears into stepping stones. The transformation was not merely cosmetic; it represented a profound change within him, fueling an unwavering determination that now defined his every move.
After he finished his grueling workout and enjoyed the sweet taste of his well-earned reward, he stepped into the refreshing embrace of a cold shower. The frigid water gushed over him like a cascade of icy diamonds, jolting his senses awake and banishing any lingering trace of fatigue. Each droplet felt like a sharp yet exhilarating shock, revitalizing his body and mind, while the invigorating chill surged through him, leaving him feeling utterly refreshed and alive.
After a refreshing shower, he hurried into the kitchen, where he started to cook. A warm, inviting scent of breakfast enveloped the kitchen. He grabbed a plate and poured a generous serving of fluffy scrambled eggs, their creamy texture glistening in the soft morning light. Next, he reached for the perfectly golden brown and crisp toast, its warmth promising to complement the eggs. With each mouthful, he relished the rich flavors that danced on his palate, fueling him for the day ahead. As he enjoyed his hearty breakfast, he casually pulled up the status panel, ready to assess the tasks waiting for him.
|Username: Grayson Matthew
Level: 4 (230/600)
HP: 780 /ENE: 580
VIT: 18
STR: 18
END: 18
DEX: 18
AGI: 18
PER: 18
INT: 18
WIS: 18
LCK: ??? (Obscured)
Stat Points: 15
Inventory: [8 regular items[1]] [14 ticket items]
Quest: [1 in progress]
Character Card: [Empty]
Skills: [3 skills]
Available Tickets: [61 Bronze] [7 Silver] [0 Gold]
Gacha Points: 1553 GP
Worlds Access: None
He was on his way to becoming someone greater than his current self, so he dedicated himself to self-improvement. He learned to fight so that he could dismantle his enemies with precision, much like Batman from Flashpoint, or Red-Hood. Additionally, he visited the local gun shop to learn how to shoot, as he had chosen the Wyvren as his weapon. All of this represented his hard work, bolstered by the system that allowed him to level up twice, log in every week, and he made at least $19,000 from it all.
During three urban interventions, which were of an uncommon tier, he managed to take possession of the thugs he encountered. This included two M1911 pistols with five magazines, a total of $239, and four combat knives. All of it meant he had a significant number of tickets to cash in for future use.
After finishing the last bite of his breakfast, he picked up his plate and put it in the sink after rinsing it with warm water. He then began to gather his supplies to ensure he had everything necessary for a good day at school. Satisfied with his preparations, he took a moment to look at himself in the mirror, adjusting the collar of his shirt and smoothing down his hair before stepping outside. As he opened the door, went down the stairs, and stepped out of the apartment building, he was hit with the fresh, cool morning air as it enveloped him, invigorating his senses. The sun shone brightly, scattering golden light across the street as he set off toward Midtown High, ready to embrace whatever the day had in store.
[12, 10, 2006 ~ 7:41 AM]
The city pulsed with an enchanting rhythm, each corner alive with a frenzy of activity that captivated the senses. The streets vibrated under the weight of the relentless traffic, a cacophony of engines revving and horns blaring, creating a chaotic symphony that felt almost musical. Cars zipped by in a ceaseless stream, their headlights cutting through the haze of the afternoon sun, while the air was thick with the mingling scents of street food and gasoline.
On the crowded sidewalks, clusters of pedestrians moved like a living tapestry, their vibrant clothing adding splashes of color to the scene. Laughter erupted from groups gathered under awnings, where stories and anecdotes sparked animated discussions, hands gesturing emphatically as if to illustrate a point. Some individuals, with their brows furrowed in concentration, clutched steaming cups of rich, aromatic coffee, the steam rising like wisps of cloud into the cool air.
Others juggled an assortment of bags, some crammed with fresh produce from the market, while others bulged with the latest trendy clothes, the fabric rustling softly with each hurried step. Amid this urban whirlwind, the pulse of life felt both frenetic and exhilarating—a vivid snapshot of the city's unyielding spirit.
Nearby, the muted thuds of construction echoed persistently from a busy site, where a team of workers, each adorned in bright yellow hard hats and heavy-duty vests, diligently toiled under the soft morning light. The sharp clang of metal against metal rang out with startling clarity, blending seamlessly with the low, steady hum of machinery, cranes, drills, and the rumbling of trucks, each contributing to the orchestra of progress and renewal shaping the urban backdrop.
This morning symphony enveloped him completely, wrapping around him like a beloved, well-worn blanket, its familiar texture reminiscent of countless previous days in the city. The sounds stirred something deep within him, infusing his spirit with a refreshing wave of energy and purpose that surged through his veins. As the vibrant scenes of change unfolded around him, his heart raced in response, ready to embrace the unfolding day with optimism and resolve, poised to tackle whatever challenges awaited just beyond the horizon.
[12, 10, 2006 ~ 8:08 AM]
At the bustling school gates, Peter and Ned spotted him first, their faces lighting up with wide grins as they waved energetically. Grayson smiled back, feeling a rush of camaraderie as the three friends fell into step, their feet clattering against the pavement. They quickly launched into a spirited discussion, tossing around wild theories about the mysterious circumstances surrounding their history teacher's recent arrest. Their banter was laced with humor, filled with exaggerated jokes about how their entire class seemed to be cursed with bad luck. Laughter bounced off the walls of the hallway as they made their way toward their lockers, creating a vibrant atmosphere that momentarily lifted Grayson's spirits.
However, amid the lightheartedness, a nagging unease stirred within him. A subtle tension hung in the air, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. As he approached the row of lockers, his eyes instinctively darted toward a small group of unfamiliar students loitering near the office. The faces were new, unlike anyone he had seen the previous week. They stood there with an odd nonchalance, yet their body language screamed alertness; they seemed hyper-aware of everything happening around them. A chill crept down Grayson's spine as he observed the way they shifted their gazes, as if they were assessing the situation and everyone in it.
That feeling of discomfort intensified; something about them just didn't sit right. It felt like instinct kicking in—an inner warning sign honed by days of training and subtle nudges from the System. He couldn't shake the feeling that he should approach the situation with caution, even as he tried to maintain his focus on the unfolding routine of the school day.
As Grayson hurriedly gathered his books, a sudden jolt caught him off guard—he had accidentally collided with a girl who had vibrant, glossy brown hair in a ponytail, a striking contrast against the dull, gray wall of the school hallway. Her name was Kitty Pryde, and the collision sent her books cascading to the polished floor, creating a colorful array of paperbacks and notebooks that scattered like fallen leaves.
"Ah, I'm really sorry about that!" Grayson exclaimed, his cheeks flushing slightly as he dropped to one knee to help her collect her belongings, the coolness of the floor contrasting with the warmth of his embarrassment.
Kitty looked up at him, her expression softening into a small, genuine smile that lit up her features. "No worries at all! First week madness, am I right?" Her voice had a friendly lilt, like a gentle breeze on a warm day, which immediately put him at ease.
"Yeah, definitely! It feels like everything is a bit chaotic," he replied, his hands fumbling as he handed her a bright blue notebook decorated with whimsical doodles, still a bit disoriented by the unexpected encounter.
"Are you new here?" she asked, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, revealing a glint of silver earrings that caught the fluorescent light above them.
"Yeah, I'm Grayson. Just started last month," he admitted, glancing around the bustling hallway where students rushed past, their voices mingling in excitement and anxiety. "What about you?"
"I'm Katherine Pryde, but I go by Kitty," she answered, her eyes sparkling with interest as they locked onto his. "I've only been here yesterday to apply, and today's the day we start." Her gaze showed a hint of shared understanding, as if they both navigated the same unfamiliar waters, still discovering the currents of high school life.
At that moment, a quiet chime resonated in the back of his mind:
|SYSTEM NOTIFICATION|
Received Item: Silver Gacha Ticket (x1)
|Source: ??? (Fated Encounter)
It felt surreal, as if the universe had marked this brief moment as something significant. He dismissed the prompt with a thought. They shared a lingering glance, the hallway noise fading into a distant hum as something unspoken passed between them—a flicker of connection that felt both exciting and unexpected—before Peter's voice cut through the moment, calling out down the hall.
"I'll see you around, Kitty," Grayson said, offering her a small wave, the gesture awkward yet sincere, as he turned to jog back toward his friends, who waited nearby, their laughter rising above the chatter of students.
Kitty stood in the crowded hallway, her gaze fixed on the retreating figure of the intriguing stranger. As he walked away, an undeniable curiosity stirred within her, filling her mind with a whirlwind of thoughts and questions. The warmth of their brief interaction enveloped her like a cozy blanket, making her heart race.
She considered every detail of his appearance, the way the light caught in his hair, and the subtle confidence in his stride, as she tried to piece together who he might be. The noise of the bustling hallway faded into the background, replaced by the vivid memories of their conversation, which played in her mind like a cherished film loop.
What had started as a typical day quickly morphed into an unforgettable moment. Amid the swirling confusion and noise surrounding her, Kitty felt herself drifting into deep contemplation. Her mind was abuzz with questions, eager to unravel the mystery of the enigmatic stranger who had so unexpectedly captivated her interest and ignited a spark of curiosity within her.
Classes flowed smoothly until history, when the classroom door opened and a presence seemed to sweep in with the breeze. The new substitute was tall, regal, and commanding. Ororo Munroe moved like a woman who controlled more than just a room—her posture radiated strength, her voice carried an effortless calm. She introduced herself with a subtle smile and a voice like rolling thunder held in check.
The System chimed softly in Grayson's head:
|SYSTEM NOTIFICATION|
Received Item: Gold Gacha Ticket (x1)
|Source: ??? (Fated Encounter)
Grayson stood motionless, masking the tumult within his mind. Omega-level? The term sent a jolt through him, illuminating the tension crackling in the air and heightening his senses. This was more than just a mere substitute teacher; she radiated an aura of danger—or perhaps unmatched power, depending on one's perspective. With graceful, fluid movements, she inscribed her name on the board, her handwriting a striking blend of elegance and authority, before turning her piercing gaze back to the class, commanding their attention without a word.
"I expect effort," Ororo said, her eyes sweeping the room. "And I expect respect, not just for me, but for yourselves. Understood?"
A chorus of nods and murmured agreements followed. Grayson glanced around, noticing how even the usual chatterboxes had gone silent. She had their full attention.
"I expect effort," Ororo stated firmly, her commanding gaze sweeping across the room like a brisk wind. "And I expect respect, not just for me, but for yourselves. Understood?"
A chorus of nods and murmured agreements echoed in response, creating an almost palpable atmosphere of focus. Grayson glanced around, taking note of the usually lively chatterboxes now reduced to quiet contemplation. She had captured their full attention, and the room felt charged with unspoken anticipation.
Peter leaned in slightly, a hint of mischief in his voice as he whispered, "She's kind of intense, huh? Like a regal queen holding court."
Grayson nodded briefly, his eyes fixed ahead, but he couldn't shake the feeling of gravity that Ororo exuded. "Yeah, she definitely gives off a vibe. But… she's cool. I can tell just by looking at her."
Raising an eyebrow, Peter chuckled softly. "You can figure that out from just one sentence? Mr. Detective?"
Grayson offered a slight smirk, the corners of his mouth twitching up. "I'm good at reading people. It's what I do."
Yet beneath the surface bravado, the truth was far more complex. The System had already revealed all he needed to know, whispering secrets of change and promise. Something significant was shifting in the air—a force that had just stepped through the threshold, draped in white robes and illuminated by the electric spark of her striking eyes. It was as if a storm had entered the room, bringing with it a sense of purpose and anticipation.
[12, 10, 2006 ~ 12:44 PM]
At lunch, Grayson, Peter, and Ned settled into their usual spot at the far end of the cafeteria, a table that provided some semblance of privacy amid the bustling crowd. Their trays were piled high with whatever passed for food—soggy pizza, limp salad, and a certain mystery meat that remained unidentifiable. Just as they dug into their meals, Gwen Stacy made her entrance, plopping down beside them with her trademark grin that could brighten even the dullest day. She tossed her backpack to the side with a carefree flourish.
"So," Gwen began, piercing a fork into a questionable-looking pasta that seemed to defy the laws of food science, "does anyone else think that new substitute might moonlight as a goddess?"
Ned's eyes widened as he chimed in, "I swear she made the lights flicker when she walked in! It was like she had some kind of electric energy about her."
Peter, caught up in the excitement, jumped into the conversation with animated gestures. "Seriously! She was like a queen—or maybe from Africa—a descendant of royalty or something! You could just tell!"
Grayson took a contemplative bite of his sandwich, nodding in agreement. "She's definitely not your average substitute. Honestly, I felt like she could level the school with just a single glare," he said with a chuckle, picturing the substitute weaving through the desks as if she owned the place.
As laughter erupted around the table, the conversation smoothly transitioned to lighter topics—discussing their various electives, sharing tales of Peter's frequent mishaps in lab experiments, and exchanging rumors about an upcoming field trip that might involve Oscorp and its fascinating technology. Yet, even amid their chatter and camaraderie, Grayson's thoughts occasionally drifted toward the unusual energy that seemed to linger in the air—an energy that reminded him of Kitty Pryde, whose presence always seemed to resonate with a similar intensity. He couldn't shake the feeling that something significant was brewing, both in and out of the classroom.
Across the bustling cafeteria, nestled in a corner, Jean Grey sat at a long wooden table, her fingers drumming an anxious rhythm against her plastic tray. She periodically stole glances at Grayson's table, located a few seats away. The atmosphere around her was lively, filled with laughter and animated conversations, but her focus was elsewhere.
Scott Summers, seated beside her, leaned in closer, his brow furrowed with concern. "You okay? You've been staring at that guy for a while," he asked, trying to gauge her unusual fixation.
Across from them, Kitty Pryde turned in her seat, following Jean's gaze to Grayson. Curiosity sparked in her eyes. "He's the guy I bumped into this morning—Grayson. There's something off about him. He's… different. It's not just that he's socially awkward; there's something more to it," she explained, her voice lowered as if discussing a secret.
Bobby Drake, ever the skeptic, squinted at Grayson with suspicion. "Yeah," he chimed in, crossing his arms. "Did you see the way he moves? It's not like he's just some typical student. He's... smoother, like he's trained to handle himself or something."
Jean frowned, her brow knitting in concentration as she tried to focus on Grayson's thoughts. "I can't… I can't hear a single thought from him," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Kurt Wagner paused in mid-bite of his lunch, his blue skin contrasting sharply with the bright colors of the cafeteria. He turned wide-eyed to Jean. "Vas? You mean, at all? Like, there's nothing?"
Jean nodded slowly, her expression turning more serious. "Exactly. It's just… static. I thought maybe I was off today, but it feels like something is actively shielding him from me. Or blocking me entirely."
Scott's concern deepened as he regarded her closely. "Is that even possible? For someone to block your telepathy?"
"I don't know," Jean replied softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Maybe if he's a telepath himself or something even more powerful. But honestly, I could just be tired."
At the edge of the table, Jubilee popped a bubble with her gum while resting her chin on her hand, her expression a mix of boredom and intrigue. "Well, whatever he is, he's kinda cute," she remarked with a grin, glancing at Grayson.
Rogue, sitting nearby, rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed as she prodded at the steak on her tray with her fork. "You say that about every new face we see around here," she replied, her tone teasing but with an edge of annoyance.
Meanwhile, Kitty remained intently focused on Grayson from across the room, her brow furrowing deeper as she observed him. "No… he's definitely not normal. And I really don't think the System has anything to do with it," she murmured, her mind racing with possibilities.
As the laughter and lively chatter filled the air, the two tables stood distinctly apart from one another, creating an intriguing contrast. At one table, a group of friends exchanged lighthearted jokes and playful banter, their faces illuminated by smiles and bursts of laughter. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, a testament to their camaraderie and ease with one another.
In stark contrast, the other table was shrouded in a palpable sense of cautious curiosity. The students seated there leaned closer to one another, their voices lowered as they exchanged glances filled with intrigue. They were captivated by their enigmatic classmate, Grayson, who sat quietly at the end of the table, seemingly lost in thought. Questions buzzed in the air, unspoken yet felt by all—who was Grayson really, and what secrets lay behind that mysterious facade?
[12, 10, 2006 ~ 3:21 PM]
After the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Grayson exchanged quick goodbyes with his friends Peter and Ned, promising to catch up again tomorrow to share stories about their evening. As he walked alone toward the subway station, he could feel the weight of the day pressing down on his shoulders, but it wasn't an unpleasant sensation. It was a familiar feeling, one that came with a sense of accomplishment. There was something deeply satisfying in the rhythm of it all: the cycle of effort, progress, and the exhaustion that followed.
[12, 10, 2006 ~ 3:59 PM]
Arriving at the construction site, he was greeted by the earthy aroma of wood mixed with the sharp scent of sawdust and the undeniable musk of hard work and sweat. The sounds of construction filled the air: the whirring of power tools, the distant clanging of machinery, and the occasional shouts of workers coordinating their tasks. As he clocked in, Kyle, a seasoned foreman with a welcoming smile, clapped Grayson on the back. "You've got good hands, kid. Have you ever thought about staying on long-term?"
Grayson flashed a warm smile in response to his companions, a wave of pride swelling within him as he lifted a hefty bundle of two-by-fours with apparent ease. Each beam, rough and sturdy in texture, felt almost weightless as he maneuvered them effortlessly in his grip. The sun-drenched afternoon cast soft shadows around him, illuminating the sweat glistening on his brow—a testament to his hard work.
In that moment, Grayson reveled in the satisfaction that came from not just the physical challenge of the task but also the deep sense of camaraderie shared among the team. He looked around, seeing the faces of his friends showing determination and teamwork as they labored side by side. They were all united by a common goal, and every swing of the hammer, every nail driven home, brought them closer to their vision.
It was these moments—filled with laughter, shared stories, and the tangible results of their collective efforts—that made him appreciate the work even more. The construction site buzzed with activity, and Grayson felt a sense of fulfillment, knowing that together they were building not just a structure, but lasting memories and friendships.
[12, 10, 2006 ~ 8:17 PM]
When his shift finally ended, he felt the familiar ache in his muscles and the dampness of his shirt clinging to his back. Rather than heading straight home to rest, he decided to make a quick stop at a small grocery store nestled between a neon-lit pawn shop and a bustling laundromat. The bright, buzzing fluorescent lights overhead cast a stark glow over the narrow aisles, creating a stark contrast to the familiar darkness of his long day.
As he maneuvered through the crowded aisles, he carefully selected items for his meal prep. He reached for a bag of rice, visualizing the filling dishes he could create with it. Next, he chose frozen vegetables—colorful peas, vibrant carrots, and crunchy bell peppers—that would add some nutrition and flavor to his meals. He also picked up a dozen eggs, imagining the quick breakfasts he could whip up before the next workday. Finally, he added a few cans of beans and, from the meat section, got the chicken and the beef, knowing they would put a small dent in his wallet and provide much-needed protein. All the while, he kept a close eye on prices, calculating each choice to ensure he stayed within a budget.
[12, 10, 2006 ~ 8:49 PM]
Upon returning to his small apartment, he approached unpacking with a meticulous efficiency that had become second nature. He systematically removed items from the boxes, methodically arranging cans of food in perfect rows on a narrow shelf, ensuring that the labels faced outward for easy access. The perishables found their place in the modest refrigerator, which hummed softly, breathing a little life into the otherwise stark environment.
As he worked, the cramped quarters began to feel less oppressive, the familiar rhythm of his routine slowly replacing the initial chill of the unknown. He had taken the time to dedicate a tall bookshelf to his passions, each shelf a curated collection of volumes focused on subjects that sparked his curiosity: the intricacies of computer science, the principles of engineering, the fascinating world of artificial intelligence, and a medley of other interests that spoke to his ever-curious mind.
Once the unpacking was complete and the space felt more like home, he carefully unfurled his notebooks scattered across the floor. Each one was filled with his thoughts, sketches, and academic musings, a collage of his interests and aspirations. He settled onto the cool, hardwood floor, surrounded by his materials, and lost himself in his assignments. The weight of deadlines loomed over him, but as he immersed himself in the tasks at hand, a sense of fulfillment replaced any lingering anxiety. It was here, in this organized chaos, that he felt a burgeoning sense of purpose.
[12, 10, 2006 ~ 10:31 PM]
Outside, the city hummed beneath a sorrow-tinged sky—molten gold bleeding into bruised lavender, like the final notes of a requiem fading into silence. The buildings stood like weary sentinels, their windows catching the last light of day as though reluctant to let it go. Inside the apartment, Grayson moved with mechanical precision, each motion a quiet rebellion against the uncertainty clawing at the edges of his mind. He folded his laundry in perfect squares, wiped down the already-clean counter, adjusted the angle of his notebook on the floor—not out of need, but to hold something in place when everything else felt fragile.
He didn't notice how long he'd been staring at the cracked ceiling until a gust of wind stirred the fire escape outside, rattling the pane. The world outside churned forward—cars honking, lives unraveling, destinies colliding—but within these four walls, time slowed. Grayson moved like someone trying not to fall apart, like someone holding onto the pieces with calloused fingertips and stubborn resolve.
And yet, despite the ache in his limbs and the static in his chest, there was clarity. A heavy stillness. In this sliver of the evening, beneath the dim light of a dying sun, Grayson wasn't lost. He was exactly where he needed to be—alone, quiet, bracing himself for the next unknown tomorrow might bring.
Later, he cycled through |Red Lotus Reflex| and Boxing drills until his limbs trembled and sweat streamed from his brow, darkening the fabric of his shirt and pooling at his feet. Every strike, every pivot felt sharper—more alive—but also heavier, weighted with something unseen. When he finally stopped, chest heaving and muscles twitching, the apartment was thick with the metallic scent of effort.
The shower was unexpectedly hot this time, the steam enveloping him as it washed away the grime from his skin, yet it failed to clear the quiet, persistent thoughts that lingered in his mind like shadows. Afterward, he dressed in silence, every movement deliberate and smooth as he prepared a simple stir-fry. He pulled out a bag of frozen vegetables from the freezer, combined them with steaming rice, and added a generous amount of garlic, letting the strong aroma fill the small kitchen. As the pan sizzled, it filled his apartment with a comforting warmth, creating a fleeting sense of coziness in a space that often echoed with a profound emptiness.
After eating, he slipped out to the fire escape with a mug of water in one hand and his phone in the other, but neither held his attention. The city stretched out below like a sleeping beast, its glowing arteries pulsing in amber and red. He leaned back against the cold railing, a breeze tugging at his damp hair, and whispered to no one in particular, "Let's do this. System, convert my bronze tickets into silver, and my silver tickets into gold, and pull up my Status."
🎫 Conversion Details:
You are exchanging Bronze Tickets for Silver Tickets.
Exchange Rate:
10 Bronze → 1 Silver
10 Silver → 1 Gold
Result:
61 Bronze Tickets → 6 Silver Tickets
14 Silver Tickets → 1 Gold Ticket
|1 Bronze Ticket remains.|
|4 Silver Tickets remain.|
|Username: Grayson Matthew
Level: 4 (230/600)
HP: 780 /ENE: 580
VIT: 18
STR: 18
END: 18
DEX: 18
AGI: 18
PER: 18
INT: 18
WIS: 18
LCK: ??? (Obscured)
Stat Points: 15
Inventory: [8 regular items] [14 ticket items]
Quest: [1 in progress]
Character Card: [Empty]
Skills: [3 skills]
Available Tickets: [1 Bronze] [4 Silver] [2 Gold]
Gacha Points: 1553 GP
Worlds Access: None
Grayson stood silently, his body rooted to the spot as he gazed out across the vast expanse of the horizon. The sky was a canvas painted with the rich colors of twilight—deep purples blending into fiery oranges, streaked with the last rays of sunlight. Each breath he took was filled with the crisp, cool air, tinged with the scent of metal and concrete. He was oblivious to the laughter and chatter of those around him, his mind consumed by the distant silhouettes of buildings that pierced the sky like darkened sentinels. In that moment, he yearned to see his future unfold before him, as if the very essence of his hopes and dreams could materialize in vibrant neon against the skyline, illuminating the path ahead. The weight of possibility hung heavily in the air, making his heart race with a mixture of anxiety and excitement.
He began by using the Silver Ticket, hoping for a beneficial skill. The results were promising:
|🎟️ Silver Ticket Roll – Standard Draw|
🎲 Pull Odds:
Common: 50%
Uncommon: 30%
Rare: 12%
Epic: 3%
🎯 Category: Armor, Weapons, Magic, Items, Skills, Toys, Property
🌍 Worlds Included: All 107 worlds, equal odds (~0.9346% each)
🌀 Rolling...
🎉 Rarity Rolled: Uncommon
Item Name: Grapple Line Gauntlet Mk I
Category: Items
World: Young Justice (DC)
Rarity: Uncommon
Description: A compact, forearm-mounted grappling device reverse-engineered from Robin's utility tech and adapted for general users. Fires a reinforced tether with a built-in retraction motor capable of hauling up to 200 lbs. Ideal for fast vertical traversal or mid-combat repositioning. While not stealthy, it's rugged, reliable, and intuitive to use—even for someone without training.
Special Effects:
*Quickfire Hook: Launch up to 50 feet with near-instant tension lock; 5-second cooldown.
*Retract Mode: Pulls objects or small enemies weighing less than 100 lbs toward the user (10 ft max).
*Traversal Sync: Can be paired with certain cloaks, suits, or vision modes for dynamic rooftop movement.
Recycle Cost: 65 GP
Shop Price: 420 GP
GP Earned: 9 GP
|Would you like to roll another ticket or do something else with this Item?|
A sharp clank reverberates through the stillness of the alley, catching his attention.
A matte-black gauntlet lands beside him, its surface metallic yet sleek, designed with compact lines that evoke the iconic style of Robin's gear. A bold red triangle insignia is prominently stamped on its side, giving the piece a striking focal point. Strangely, it doesn't glow or pulse with energy; it lies there motionless, seemingly waiting for him to claim it. He blinks in disbelief.
"Oh hell yes. Now this is what I'm talking about. With a surge of excitement, he puts down the mug, snatches it up, and slides the gauntlet onto his left arm. It hisses slightly as it locks into place, fitting snugly and comfortably against his skin. The weight is perfectly balanced—not too heavy, but solid enough to feel reassuring. He flexes his wrist experimentally, and suddenly, a small targeting reticle flickers to life on the dark lens of his borrowed sunglasses, illuminating his vision with a soft glow.
|🔹 Quickfire Hook: [Ready]
|🔹 Retract Mode: [Online]
|🔹 Traversal Sync: [Compatible]
A wide grin spreads across his face, genuine and full of thrill, showing off his teeth. "I finally get to move like them," he breathes, feeling the pulse of adrenaline surge within him. Leaning over the edge of the metal fire escape, he peers down at the ground four stories below. Under normal circumstances, that drop would spell certain doom. But today is different. Today, he feels an electric rush of possibility. With a quick tap of his wrist, a subtle click resonates in the air.
Then— THWIP! The line shoots out from the gauntlet, latching onto a nearby lamppost with an almost instinctual precision. He feels the cable tighten, taut and firm, anchoring him for what's to come. "...Okay," he mutters, feeling his heart race and his breath hitch in his throat. "Okay, this is real."Taking a deep breath, he can already feel the moment's weight, accompanied by an exhilarating grin that stretches wide across his face.
He whispers to himself, "Don't die. Don't die. Don't die."
In one fluid motion, he jumps off the edge. Instantly, the gauntlet whines, and with a sudden jolt, it pulls him into the air. A fierce gust of wind rushes against his face as he swings out over the street, moving fast and low, the world blurring beneath him. He lands on the opposite fire escape with a jarring thud, his boots scraping against the metal surface, almost throwing him off balance. But he doesn't fall. Instead, laughter bursts from him, breathless and wild.
"This changes everything," he exclaims, the realization dawning on him as the thrill pulses through his veins. He takes a moment to revel in the rush, sitting there with his pulse racing and excitement coursing through him. Somewhere down the block, he catches a glimpse of Spider-Man swinging through the city with effortless grace, navigating the rooftops as if he owns the night. For the first time, he doesn't feel like a mere spectator watching from the sidelines.
With renewed determination, he grips the gauntlet tightly, feeling its power resonate through him."I'm coming for the rooftops now," he declares, ready to embrace the adventure that lies ahead. In one fluid motion, he jumps off the edge. Instantly, the gauntlet whines, and with a sudden jolt, it pulls him into the air, and he lands back on his fire escape. As he settles down from the rush, he draws another silver ticket.
|🎟️ Silver Ticket Roll – Standard Draw|
🎲 Pull Odds:
Common: 50%
Uncommon: 30%
Rare: 12%
Epic: 3%
🎯 Category: Armor, Weapons, Magic, Items, Skills, Toys, Property
🌍 Worlds Included: All 107 worlds, equal odds (~0.9346% each)
🌀 Rolling...
🎉 Rarity Rolled: Rare
Item Name: Shadow Synchronization Technique
Category: Skill
World: Solo Leveling
Rarity: Rare
Description: A refined combat ability derived from the techniques of Sung Jin-Woo, this skill allows the user to briefly attune with nearby shadows, enhancing their movement and battlefield awareness. While it doesn't summon shadow soldiers, it borrows from the rhythm and precision of Jin-Woo's mastery over the dark. Black mist flickers around the user when active, and their steps become unnervingly quiet.
Special Effects:
*Shadow Phase Step: Once every 10 seconds, allows a flicker-step (short-range, low-cooldown dash) through thin surfaces or obstacles.
*Darkvision Pulse: Detects all living entities within a 10-meter radius for 3 seconds when in darkness or dim light.
Recycle Cost: 120 GP
Shop Price: 800 GP
GP Earned: 17 GP
|Would you like to roll another ticket or do something else with this Item?|
He stared at it.
Then leaned forward, setting the mug on the ledge. "No way."
The card pulsed in the air, then descended slowly, pixelating and embedding itself just above his chest before vanishing with a surge of cold air and dark mist. He shivered. His shadow flickered unnaturally behind him, even though there was no shift in the light.
Grayson's breath caught. He held out his hands. Nothing changed—no claws, no black armor, no monster eyes. But when he focused... something responded. The shadows around him subtly bent toward his body like dust pulled toward static.
"Is this..." he whispered. His heart rate climbed. "Solo Leveling? I just pulled a Jin-Woo fragment?!"
He glanced down the alley, then over his shoulder—paranoia was second nature now. Taking a deep breath, he focused on the skill's name in his mind.
|Shadow Phase Step|
The world hiccupped.
He blinked—and was standing at the bottom of the fire escape, four stories lower, his body humming like a struck tuning fork. No sound. No strain. Just... teleportation through shadows. A short flicker of movement through reality.
His eyes widened. "Okay. That's not just good. That's meta-breaking."
Grayson crouched beside a trash bin, peeking up at the fire escape above. A grin slowly spread across his face. He could phase-step. Detect people in the dark. Slip through alley fights or sneak past enhanced thugs. This wasn't just a skill.
It was a survival toolkit. "This... this changes everything."
For once, the towering weight of the Marvel universe—the Avengers, the villains, the multiverse threats—felt just a little less impossible. Grayson stood tall, letting the grin settle into something calmer. Strategic.
He just had to outlast the danger. And now, with shadows on his side, he finally had a chance to do that. He waited for the cooldown to be done, and then he |Shadow Phase Step| back onto his fire escape, grabbed his mug, sat down, and drew another ticket.
|🎟️ Silver Ticket Roll – Standard Draw|
🎲 Pull Odds:
Common: 50%
Uncommon: 30%
Rare: 12%
Epic: 3%
🎯 Category: Armor, Weapons, Magic, Items, Skills, Toys, Property
🌍 Worlds Included: All 107 worlds, equal odds (~0.9346% each)
🌀 Rolling...
🎉 Rarity Rolled: Uncommon
Item Name: Whispersteel Shards
Category: Weapons
World: Elden Ring
Rarity: Rare
Description: Razor-thin, ethereal throwing blades forged from spectral iron mined within Nokron, Eternal City. Each shard pulses with a silvery glow and hums faintly with mournful echoes of the dead. They pass through armor like mist but strike the soul like thunder. Used by the Nightfolk assassins to silence key targets during the Shattering.
Special Effects:
*Spectral Pierce: Ignores 50% of physical armor on impact.
*Soul Burn: Applies a stacking debuff that weakens the enemy's focus and stamina regeneration for 10 seconds.
*Silent Flight: Shards make no sound when thrown; impossible to detect by standard senses until contact.
*Quantity: Comes in a set of 5. Recharges 1 shard every 12 hours (max stack: 5).
Recycle Cost: 240 GP
Shop Price: 1,700 GP
GP Earned: 18 GP
|Would you like to roll another ticket or do something else with this Item?|
A gentle breeze drifts through the alley, carrying with it the faintest hint of autumn. Beside him lies a stark contrast to the chaotic world outside—a folded black cloth, unassuming yet intriguing, neatly wrapped like a bundle of exquisite silverware. The air is heavy with silence, a stillness that seems to absorb the noise of the city, wrapping around him like a comforting cloak.
His fingers, driven by instinct rather than thought, move to unwrap the cloth. As he pulls it apart, a sense of anticipation fills the air. Inside, five thin, curved throwing blades are revealed, each one a stunning representation of craftsmanship, shimmering like moonlight solidified into form. The blades glisten faintly, their surfaces adorned with a whisper of ethereal mist that dances around them like breath fogging up on a frosty morning. They boast no sharp edges, yet even without the promise of violence, they possess an aura of danger, slicing through the atmosphere with their mere presence.
He catches his breath, captivated by the sight. The blades rest in his palm, perfectly balanced, as if they were meant to be there all along—a whisper of destiny intertwining with his very being.
|🔹Spectral Pierce: [Active]
|🔹Soul Burn: [Active]
|🔹Silent Flight: [Passive]
"They're from Elden Ring," he murmurs, his voice barely breaking the silence, almost as if speaking too loudly would shatter the delicate tension. "From Nokron. Tools of an assassin. Ghost-killers." His gaze shifts back toward the bustling street—an unsettling scene filled with chaos, flashing lights from cameras, and the aggressive movements of enhanced thugs prowling like predators hunting in the dark.
The juxtaposition of his quiet haven and the world beyond feels stark and jarring. With a practiced motion, he slips one blade between his fingers. It feels remarkably light, almost as if it defies the laws of physics—an embodiment of intent made tangible. He draws his arm back and releases it with precision.
The blade flies silently through the air, a lethal whisper that punctuates the stillness. It disappears into the wooden fence at the alley's edge, embedding itself with a muted thud that reverberates in the silence. The fence sags under the weight of the blade, as if something within has aged a century in that fleeting moment.
He quickly inspects his hand—only four blades remain, and he notices that one of them is already beginning to reform itself, a ghostly apparition coalescing back into existence. A chill snakes down his spine, but it isn't fear that grips him; it's a sense of purpose, a burning resolve igniting within. He carefully wraps the blades again, his movements slow and reverent, as if handling something sacred.
With a practiced touch, he tucks them into an inner pocket stitched behind his jacket lining, the fabric cool against his fingertips. "No more warnings," he declares softly, his voice steady with conviction. "Next time someone dares to confront me in the dark... they won't walk away." The metal beneath him creaks as he leans back, fully embracing the silence that now feels more like his own than the city's cacophony. His fingers itch to draw another blade, ready for whatever may come next.
|🎟️ Silver Ticket Roll – Standard Draw|
🎲 Pull Odds:
Common: 50%
Uncommon: 30%
Rare: 12%
Epic: 3%
🎯 Category: Armor, Weapons, Magic, Items, Skills, Toys, Property
🌍 Worlds Included: All 107 worlds, equal odds (~0.9346% each)
🌀 Rolling...
🎉 Rarity Rolled: Uncommon
Item Name: Shadowclaw Dagger
Category: Weapon
World: Ninjago
Rarity: Uncommon
Description: Forged in the depths of the Serpentine tombs, the Shadowclaw Dagger is a sleek obsidian blade once used by stealthy warriors of the Venomari tribe. Its edge glows faint green when exposed to moonlight, channeling the tribe's venomous essence. Though not suited for head-on combat, it excels in stealth-based operations and quick eliminations.
Special Effects:
*Venom Strike: 20% chance to inflict mild paralysis on hit, reducing enemy agility for 10 seconds.
*Silent Edge: Attacks with this weapon produce no sound, perfect for infiltration missions.
Recycle Cost: 30 GP
Shop Price: 220 GP
GP Earned: 9 GP
|Would you like to roll another ticket or do something else with this Item?|
He stared at the blade now forming in his grip — the Shadowclaw Dagger. It wasn't large. It looked deceptively small, its glassy black curve glinting faintly green under the night sky, like it was breathing. The obsidian shimmered as if absorbing the city's ambient tension — traffic horns, distant sirens, the low hum of something definitely not human flitting across rooftops.
"What the hell…" he whispered, slowly turning the dagger in his hand. It made no sound. Not a scrape. Not a whisper of air. Just a chilling presence, like a breath down his spine.
His fingers trembled, not from fear, well, maybe a little, but from awe. Because this wasn't just a shiny weapon in a fantasy RPG inventory screen. This was real. Tangible. Sharp. Lethal. And it had just materialized from a ticket, a gacha ticket, of all things.
Leon ran his thumb along the edge. It didn't cut, but he could feel something underneath the surface of the blade. A hum. A... coiling sensation. Like the venom it promised in its name was waiting to strike. His heart pounded.
"Of all the places," he muttered, glancing down at the alley. "I roll a stealth dagger in Marvel."
This wasn't a sandbox world anymore. This was Marvel, where gods flew with hammers, assassins wore red leather, and multi-billionaires patrolled the skies in iron suits. Here, power mattered. And suddenly, he had some, however small. It wasn't a repulsor beam or mutant gene, but it was his. Silent. Venomous. Precise.
The thought came unbidden: If I'm gonna survive here... I'll need to hit first. And quiet.
He tucked the dagger in his inventory, the blade dissolving into a faint shimmer as if it were waiting for his next call. The glow on his palm faded. Grayson leaned back against the fire escape railing and exhaled slowly. It was time for the Gold. " System, draw the gold ticket."
|🎟️ Gold Ticket Roll – Standard Draw|
🎲 Pull Odds:
Common: 35%
Uncommon: 30%
Rare: 20%
Epic: 10%
Legendary: 4%
Mystic: 1%
🎯 Categories Included: Armor, Weapons, Magic, Items, Skills, Toys, Property
🌍 Worlds Included: All 107 worlds, equal odds (~0.9346% each)
🌀 Rolling...
🎉 Rarity Rolled: Epic
Item Pulled: N7 Phantom Combat Suit
Category: Armor
World: Mass Effect
Rarity: Epic
Description: A high-end armor prototype developed by the Systems Alliance, originally inspired by Cerberus's Phantom units. This suit combines stealth tech, biotic shielding, and reinforced plating designed for elite operatives. Its sleek, dark-metal design includes red N7 markings and a holo-visor integrated into the helmet for real-time threat analysis.
Special Effects:
*Tactical Cloak: Activate short-term invisibility (5 seconds) with a 30-second cooldown.
*Kinetic Barrier: Automatically absorbs the first instance of damage taken in combat every 2 minutes.
*Biotic Optimization: +10% efficiency to any biotic or magic-based skills while worn.
Recycle Cost: 420 GP
Shop Price: 3,000 GP
GP earned: 35 GP
|Would you like to roll another ticket or do something else with this Item?|
No big flash, no blaring music. Just a soft, steady hum filling the night air—and then, with a metallic clink, something heavy dropped softly beside him on the worn concrete steps.
He blinked in surprise, his heart racing. There, at his feet, lay a sleek black combat suit, folded meticulously into a tight hexagonal case. The unmistakable red "N7" insignia glimmered against the suit's matte finish, radiating an aura of power and sophistication. His breath caught in his throat, and disbelief washed over him.
"...No way." With trembling hands, he opened the case, and his eyes widened. The armor shimmered before him, an exemplary fusion of sharp, angular plates and sleek, high-tech fabric. It was unmistakably Cerberus-derived technology, outfitted with Phantom-class modifications and biotic-conductive plating. This was no ordinary suit; it was engineered specifically to hunt rogue operatives, capable of piercing through hostile fire with the effortless grace of wind gliding through silk.
And now, incredibly, it belonged to him. An interface flickered to life, illuminating the darkness with a soft glow.
Do you wish to synchronize with the N7 Phantom Combat Suit? Y/N |
Without a moment's hesitation, he replied, "Yes." Immediately, nano-fabric unfolded, embracing his body in a warm cocoon. It wrapped around his arms, chest, and legs with a gentle hiss as millions of tiny mechanisms engaged, with a helmet forming, locking the magnetic seals into place. The Heads-Up Display (HUD) in the helmet flickered to life, casting a faint glow over his surroundings.
For a brief instant, his breath fogged the visor, creating a barrier between him and the outside world. Then, in an instant, his body went quiet. There were no creaks of discomfort or the familiar weight of his old, worn clothing—just a profound sense of power coursing through him.
|🔹Tactical cloak: [Online]
|🔹Kinetic barrier: [100%]
|🔹Biotic channels: [Active]
He flexed his hand, and the shadows around him seemed to respond, swirling in fluid obedience. Clenching his fist, he noticed the city around him quieting as if it had sensed his newfound presence. He wasn't just an ordinary guy anymore. He was a formidable threat.
From the alley below came a sudden screech, an insolent punk trying to steal a car, his voice full of bravado. Without pausing to think, he leapt into action, his boots magnetizing to the iron rail with a silent precision that made no sound. The cloak activated instantly, enveloping him in a veil of invisibility. One second. Two. He descended the fire escape with calculated ease, swiftly crossing the alley, positioning himself silently right behind the young thief.
"Hey." The thief turned abruptly, his expression shifting from confidence to panic as he caught sight of the imposing figure looming in the darkness. In a heartbeat, an |Arcane pulse| enhanced by the |Biotic channels| launched from his outstretched hand, slamming into the punk's chest. The impact sent him crashing to the ground a few meters away like a sack of bricks, the fight knocked out of him in an instant.
Back on the fire escape, Grayson exhaled slowly, adrenaline coursing through him as the cloak shimmered off, revealing his true form once more. "Okay…" he whispered to himself, eyes darting to the suit's glowing readouts on the helmet. "This? This changes everything." In a world teeming with Marvel-like possibilities, he finally felt empowered for the first time, equipped with a fighting chance against whatever challenges lay ahead. He put the suit in the inventory and drew the final ticket.
|🎟️ Gold Ticket Roll – Standard Draw|
🎲 Pull Odds:
Common: 35%
Uncommon: 30%
Rare: 20%
Epic: 10%
Legendary: 4%
Mystic: 1%
🎯 Categories Included: Armor, Weapons, Magic, Items, Skills, Toys, Property
🌍 Worlds Included: All 107 worlds, equal odds (~0.9346% each)
🌀 Rolling...
🎉 Rarity Rolled: Uncommon
Item Pulled: Chakra-Enhanced Tanto
Category: Weapons
World: Naruto
Rarity: Uncommon
Description: A short blade crafted from chakra-conductive metal, commonly used by elite shinobi for silent, high-speed combat. This particular tanto hums faintly when drawn and is etched with old Konoha symbols of resilience. It responds to the wielder's intent, becoming lighter or heavier depending on the user's chakra flow. Though not legendary, it's a favorite among ANBU for good reason.
Special Effects:
*Chakra Channeling: Imbue the blade with elemental chakra (if available) for minor added effects (e.g., wind sharpness, fire burn).
*Quiet Slash: Attacks made with this blade make no sound, perfect for stealth.
*Chakra Sync: Slightly improves the user's chakra control when wielded.
Recycle Cost: 75 GP
Shop Price: 520 GP
GP earned: 14 GP
|Would you like to roll another ticket or do something else with this Item?|
No fancy animation. Just a soft shimmer, like a firefly fizzing into existence — and then, lying across his lap, a blade. Not just any blade.
A tanto — sleek, jet-black, and quietly dangerous. The kind of weapon you'd miss unless it was already in your ribs. The Konoha symbol was etched faintly into the hilt, nearly invisible unless the light hit just right.
He picked it up carefully, unsheathing the tanto, expecting weight — but it responded to his grip, lighter, sharper, more balanced than anything from Earth. He instinctively channeled… something. A faint flow. And the blade sang, like a tuning fork made for slicing through bone.
"A chakra weapon…" he whispered. "From Naruto. In Marvel."
He paused.
"...This is insane."
But it felt good. Natural. It wasn't flashy like a suit of armor or magic scrolls, but this... this was a survivor's tool. And in a world where the wrong rooftop could mean a sniper or a Skrull, subtlety was priceless.
He gave the blade a testing flick, near silent. He grinned, just a little.
"Okay. I'm not Iron Man. But I can work with this."
He sheathed the blade back in its sheath and leaned back on the steps, watching the streets. He wasn't ready for war. Not yet.
[12, 10, 2006 ~ 11:43 PM]
The System hummed in approval. Grayson lingered on the fire escape, feeling the cool metal beneath him and the breeze brushing his face. The system emitted a gentle, rhythmic hum, a sound that resonated with approval as Grayson stood on the fire escape, surrounded by the urban night. He leaned against the cool, gritty metal railing, letting the chill seep into his skin as the crisp air swirled around him, brushing against his cheeks and tousling his hair. he pulled up his Status panel.
|Username: Grayson Matthew
Level: 4 (230/600)
HP: 780 /ENE: 580
VIT: 18
STR: 18
END: 18
DEX: 18
AGI: 18
PER: 18
INT: 18
WIS: 18
LCK: ??? (Obscured)
Stat Points: 15
Inventory: [8 regular items] [19 ticket items]
Quest: [1 in progress]
Character Card: [Empty]
Skills: [4 skills]
Available Tickets: [1 Bronze] [0 Silver] [0 Gold]
Gacha Points: 1655 GP
Worlds Access: None
Below, the city pulsed with life; the streets teemed with people, their voices a melodic blend of laughter and conversation, while headlights from passing cars carved glowing trails through the darkness. The aroma of street food wafted upward, a tantalizing mix of spices that teased his senses, reminding him of the countless possibilities that the vast world held.
After a few moments of serenity lost in thought, Grayson turned away from the mesmerizing panorama of lights and sounds and climbed back through the slightly open window of his small apartment. The comforting familiarity of his space enveloped him as he changed into a fresh shirt, the soft fabric rustling against his skin. He glanced at the updated status panel, which illuminated the room with a soft, green glow, showcasing the new skills he had meticulously honed over the past few weeks. Each upgrade shimmered on the screen, a testament to his relentless effort and determination, filling him with a sense of pride.
With a contented sigh, he powered down the screen and watched as the light slowly disappeared, leaving the room cloaked in shadows and silence. Grayson crawled into bed, the crisp sheets cool against his skin, and pulled the comforter up to his chin, cocooning himself in warmth. Anticipation fluttered within him like a restless bird, knowing that tomorrow would usher in fresh challenges and new experiences. He felt ready to face whatever awaited him beyond the confines of his room, eager to carve his path in this expansive, mysterious world.
The city buzzed below, a constant reminder that the world he now lived in was vast, mysterious, and teeming with possibilities. After a few minutes lost in thought, he climbed back through the window, changed into a fresh shirt, and checked his updated status panel. Satisfied with his progress and new skills, he powered down the screen and crawled into bed. Tomorrow would be another step forward—another day, and he was ready.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Hi, Eid Mubarak. Sorry for the late upload, enjoy.
[1] I have stacked the same items together.