Chapter 1: The New York Nobody – Or, "Seriously, This Isn't My Apartment, Is It?"
[ SYSTEM MESSAGE: Welcome, Player. Beginning integration sequence. Please enjoy your stay in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Try not to die. ]
' Well, that's just peachy, isn't it? "Try not to die." As if I had "dying" on my Tuesday morning to-do list, right after "remember to feed the cat" and "pretend to enjoy small talk with Brenda from accounting." ' Adam Stiels, currently in what appeared to be a remarkably generic, slightly grimy New York apartment that was definitively not his, ran a hand through his perpetually messy hair. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep mid-binge of Avengers: Endgame for the hundredth time, meticulously pointing out every single continuity error to his bewildered cat, Mittens. Now? Now he was staring at a skyline that, while undeniably New York, had a certain… je ne sais quoi that screamed "pre-alien invasion" to his highly specialized, nerd-level senses.
"Okay, Adam, deep breaths," he muttered to himself, pacing the cramped living room. His voice, much to his slight annoyance, sounded exactly like it always did – a little too fast, a little too high-pitched when he was stressed, and laden with the kind of inherent sarcasm that could probably disarm a bomb, if the bomb had a sense of humor. "This is fine. Everything is fine. You just… teleported. Or astral projected. Or maybe you finally achieved peak couch-potato status and transcended reality. It happens."
He walked over to the grimy window, peering out at the urban sprawl. No visible aliens. Yet. But the distinct lack of a giant, glowing 'A' on top of what should have been the Avengers Tower (currently still "STARK" Tower, thank you very much, historical accuracy nitpicker that I am) sent a shiver down his spine. This is real. This is really happening. I'm in the MCU. Holy S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier.
A holographic interface shimmered into existence before his eyes, a sleek, almost irritatingly futuristic display. It pulsed with a gentle, inviting blue light.
[ SYSTEM MESSAGE: Congratulations on successful integration. Your system gift has been acquired. ]
"Oh, goody. A gift. Is it a pony? I've always wanted a pony," Adam deadpanned, poking at the holographic display. It rippled slightly, almost as if it was annoyed by his lack of reverence.
[ SYSTEM MESSAGE: [Epic Skill Card] Sleep (King's Haki) acquired. Recipient: Adam. ]
"Sleep? Seriously? After all the epicness of the MCU, the universe decided I needed a nap? What am I, a narcoleptic superpower? 'Behold, my mighty slumber-inducing gaze! Feel the overwhelming urge to… yawn!' This is less 'Avenger' and more 'bedtime story.'" He squinted at the floating card, which glowed with an impressive, albeit slightly misleading, golden aura. "King's Haki? As in, One Piece King's Haki? The 'I'm so awesome, you just pass out' kind of Haki? Don't tell me I can just… will people into unconsciousness. That's both incredibly overpowered and supremely anticlimactic."
' Still, if it's the real deal, it could be a game-changer. Imagine walking into a room full of bad guys, giving them the stink-eye, and they all just… drop. No messy explosions, no dramatic monologues. Just pure, unadulterated unconsciousness. The sheer comedic potential alone is off the charts. '
His thoughts, as they often did, drifted to the impending Chitauri invasion. A week. He had about a week until Loki decided to throw a very loud, very destructive party in Manhattan. And his apartment was, annoyingly, about three blocks from where that portal was going to open. Fantastic. Front row seats to the apocalypse. Maybe I can set up a hot dog stand.
"Okay, new plan," he declared to the empty room, rubbing his hands together. "Survival. Prank my way into Stark Tower. Warn Tony. Get stronger. Find Wanda. Live happily ever after. In that order. Mostly. The prank part is non-negotiable. I mean, what's the point of having meta-knowledge if you can't use it for maximum comedic effect?"
He pulled out his phone – thankfully, his own, miraculously still working and somehow linked to a new, impossibly fast data plan. A quick search confirmed his suspicions: it was indeed a week before the big green meanie and his flying fish started tearing up the place. The news feeds were abuzz with vague reports of strange atmospheric disturbances and unconfirmed sightings of a rather dashing Norse god. Typical.
The first step: get to Stark Tower. Second step: get past security. Third step: convince Tony Stark, a man whose ego was probably visible from space, that some random dude off the street had vital intel about an impending alien invasion and that said random dude's superpower was making people fall asleep. This was going to be an uphill battle, possibly involving a lot of sarcastic one-liners and very confused security guards.
"Right, Adam, put on your big boy pants. Or, you know, just some pants. Any pants will do. You're about to meet your heroes. Don't embarrass yourself. Or do. Tony probably respects audacity."
He rummaged through the sparse closet, finding clothes that, while not his, were at least in his general size and style – mostly jeans, a slightly too-tight band t-shirt (some obscure indie band he'd never heard of), and a hoodie. Perfect. Undercover, average citizen, ready to accidentally-on-purpose become a superhero.
He looked at the small, slightly dusty mirror on the wall. His reflection stared back, a familiar mix of nervous energy and barely contained mischief in his eyes. ' This is it, Stiels. No turning back now. Time to put that encyclopedic knowledge of superhero lore to good use. Or, at the very least, make some truly awkward first impressions. '
He grabbed a stray pen and a piece of paper, scribbling down a quick note. It wasn't for anyone in particular, just a little something for himself, a reminder of what he was getting into. "Dear future self," he wrote, "If you're reading this, you probably haven't died yet. Good job. Also, try not to accidentally reveal too much about the future. Paradoxes are a pain. P.S. Did you get to high-five Thor yet?" He crumpled it up, grinning.
The plan was simple, if a little insane. He'd walk right up to Stark Tower, act completely oblivious, and then, when the inevitable security shakedown happened, he'd unleash his "King's Haki." Not violently, of course. Just… enough to make everyone take a very long, very unscheduled nap. Then, he'd waltz right in, find Tony, and explain that he was here to save the world, one inconveniently timed sleep attack at a time. What could possibly go wrong?
' Famous last words, Adam. Always famous last words. '
He stepped out of the apartment, the anonymous hallway greeting him with the faint scent of stale pizza and despair. The elevator ride down was uneventful, giving him more time to mentally rehearse his grand entrance. Would he go with the "mysterious stranger" vibe? Or the "slightly unhinged prophet of doom"? Probably a mix of both, with a generous helping of sarcastic commentary.
As he hit the bustling New York street, the sheer scale of it all hit him. Taxis honked, pedestrians hurried, and the distant wail of sirens provided a constant, unsettling soundtrack. This wasn't a movie anymore. This was loud, chaotic, and terrifyingly real.
He walked with purpose, trying to blend in, to look like just another tourist marveling at the sheer audacity of Stark Tower. He passed a hot dog stand, briefly considering if he should grab a pre-invasion snack. Nah, too distracting. Must focus on the mission. Operation: Annoy Tony Stark into Believing Me is a go.
When he finally reached the towering glass edifice, it was even more imposing in person. The security was predictably tight, with stern-faced guards patrolling the perimeter. Adam took a deep breath. ' Showtime, folks. Prepare for an epic, utterly confusing performance. '
He approached the main entrance, deliberately walking slightly too close to a guard, almost bumping into him. The guard, a hulking brute with a stern expression, immediately stepped in his path.
"Excuse me, sir. This is private property. Do you have an appointment?" the guard rumbled, his voice low and authoritative.
Adam put on his best "who, little old me?" innocent face, which usually meant looking slightly bewildered and utterly harmless. "Appointment? Oh, no, not exactly. I mean, I do have an appointment with destiny, but I don't think that counts as a formal meeting, does it? Unless Tony Stark has a very, very flexible calendar."
The guard's eyes narrowed. "Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to step away."
"Right, right, boundaries. I get it," Adam said, taking a step back, but then leaning in conspiratorially. "Look, I'm just trying to get a message to Mr. Stark. It's super important. Like, 'end of the world' important. You know, just a typical Tuesday."
Another guard joined the first, their expressions growing increasingly impatient. "You need to leave now, or we'll be forced to escort you."
' Forced to escort me? Oh, honey, you have no idea what you're in for. This is where the magic happens. Or, more accurately, where the napping happens. '
Adam sighed dramatically, as if he were being terribly put upon. "Alright, fine. You asked for it. Don't say I didn't warn you. This is for your own good, really. You'll thank me later, after a really, really good sleep."
He fixed his gaze on the first guard, then slowly, deliberately, swept his eyes across the other guards in the immediate vicinity. He puffed out his chest just a fraction, a barely perceptible shift in his posture, and focused. He imagined a wave, a silent, invisible force, emanating from him. He pictured them all, just… collapsing. Not violently. Peacefully. Like tired toddlers after a sugar rush.
Then, he made his declaration, putting every ounce of dramatic flair he could muster into his voice, channeling every anime protagonist he'd ever seen. "BEHOLD! THE MIGHT OF KING'S HAKI! TREMBLE BEFORE MY WILL! FOR I AM ADAM STIELS, AND IT IS TIME FOR YOUR… NAPPY TIME!"
It was utterly ridiculous. It was over-the-top. And it worked.
One by one, the stern expressions on the guards' faces slackened. Their eyes glazed over, and with a series of soft thuds, they slumped to the ground. Not a single one cried out, not a single alarm was triggered. Just… blissful, immediate unconsciousness. Like a very aggressive lullaby.
Adam blinked. "Huh. Well, that was easier than I thought. A little less dramatic than I imagined, but effective. Maybe I should have added sound effects. 'Pew! Pew!'" He looked around at the now unconscious security detail, a small, triumphant smirk playing on his lips. "See? I told you. Nappy time."
He stepped over a slumbering guard, making his way towards the pristine revolving doors. ' This is going to be a fun week. Tony Stark won't know what hit him. Or, more accurately, what put his security detail to sleep. I wonder if he has good coffee. '