Authors Notes

Greetings, readers. This story is going to focus on the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe, including the shows and other media, but from the perspective of the protagonist, feel free to make any suggestions of the stuff you want to see in the story, and if it is reasonable, I will fit it into the story

Also, I Rewrote the Chapter, as I felt it was too similar to another story on the website, I'm now taking a different direction, and I hope you will still enjoy the story

Please feel free to leave a review, even if it's not positive, as it helps improve the story's quality.

CHAPTER TWO

Discoveries

As my parents and Penny continued their lively discussion about Tony Stark's hearing and its potential consequences, I found myself retreating into my thoughts. "Really? Of all the universes she could've sent me to, it had to be this one," I thought bitterly. But then again, it could've been worse—I could've ended up in the Invincible universe. "Gods, that would've been a freaking nightmare."

Still, the more I thought about it, the less comforted I felt. The Marvel Cinematic Universe was far from safe. Damn it. My mind raced through the timeline of events I remembered from the movies. Stark's hearing meant that the Chitauri invasion was only two years away. Two years until Loki brought hell to Earth. I would have to be ready. But how? The movies barely scratched the surface of what this universe held. I'd need to dig deeper, study everything, and figure out exactly what I was dealing with.

Then there were the people in front of me—my family and, apparently, my best friend. "I don't even know them," I realized. "Who are they really? What role do they play in this world, and in my life?"

I was jolted out of my spiraling thoughts by Penny's voice. She turned to me, her curious green eyes catching mine. "So, Jon, what do you think about the hearing? You think Tony Stark's going to lose his suit?"

I hesitated, trying to mask my surprise at being addressed so directly. Drawing on what I remembered from the movies, I shook my head. "Nah, doubtful. He's too influential and powerful. They won't take it from him."

She nodded, considering my answer, and we talked for another 15 minutes. The conversation flowed naturally, with Penny's playful energy keeping things lively. When breakfast was finished, we all cleared the table and took the dishes to the dishwasher. My parents left us to it, and I ended up loading and unloading the dishes while Penny dried the plates.

"So," she said, breaking the companionable silence. "Dad's going to the Monaco Grand Prix in a few weeks' time, and guess who snagged us an invite?"

I glanced at her, amused by the excitement radiating off her. "Uh, I don't know, you?"

"Of course!" she said with a grin, lightly splashing me with water. "And wouldn't it hurt to show a little more excitement once in a while, Mr. Stoic? I mean, come on! It's perfect—it's even on a weekend, so no worries about school."

"Right, school," I muttered, my mind wandering to my deal with Death. Had she held up her end? Was I a genius in this life? Guess I'd find out soon enough.

"I can't wait," I told her, trying to match her energy.

"Good," she said, smirking. "Oh, and don't bother asking your parents, because I'm asking on your behalf. You'd totally mess it up if you did."

I laughed softly. "Really now, Thanks, Penny."

With that, the machine was done with the dishes, and after waving goodbye to my parents, Penny and I headed outside.

"Okay, Penny," I asked, following her to the car parked out front. "What do you have in store for us?"

Instead of answering immediately, she pulled out a sleek key fob and pressed a button. The headlights of a gorgeous Porsche 911 Turbo blinked in response. I froze for a second, staring. No freaking way, how rich was this girl?

"Come on Jon, get in," she said casually, sliding into the driver's seat.

I climbed in, trying to play it cool, but the moment I was inside, I was blown away. The car was flawless—the pristine interior, the luxurious leather, the way it practically purred when she started the engine. Everything about it was perfect.

As we pulled out onto the road, I couldn't stop marveling at it. The car handled like a dream, smooth and powerful, and I was acutely aware that I had never been in anything remotely close to this in my old life.

Penny glanced over at me, catching the awestruck look on my face, and giggled. "Really, Jon? Every time we get in, you have that same look—like it's the first time you've seen this car."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Can you blame me though? It's perfect."

"Thanks Dude," she said, her grin widening.

We drove through the bustling streets, heading downtown toward our destination. I couldn't help but stare out the window, taking in the sights. A new life, I thought. A new life in a world of Heroes and gods. And it's my reality now.

The day drifted by with a casual, easy rhythm as Penny and I hung out. She did most of the talking, filling the space between us with stories and bits of her life. From her words, I pieced together her world—her father, a ridiculously wealthy business tycoon, was often too busy to spend time at home. Since her mother had passed away, Penny's days were mostly spent around her father's employees, who weren't exactly the most thrilling company. Despite his absence, though, it was clear her dad loved her. His way of making up for lost time involved grand gestures, like the Monaco trip we'd be taking soon.

I nodded along, taking it all in, but part of me wondered if I even had a passport. I'd need to figure that out soon—just one more thing to add to my growing to-do list.

After finishing our drinks at the café, we stepped back into the city. Penny kept talking as we wandered through the streets, her words occasionally interrupted by the city's lively hum. I started noticing the subtle but significant differences in this world. Oscorp Tower loomed in the skyline—a clear indicator that Oscorp existed here too. "Interesting," I thought.

At one point, we passed a building under construction. Penny caught me staring and said, "Cool right? Daddy says that's going to be Stark's new headquarters. Not sure why he needs it—his industry's already insane—but I guess he's serious about stepping away from weapons manufacturing."

I nodded thoughtfully, listening as she continued talking. Hours passed like that, driving around and chatting, before we finally made our way back to my parents' apartment building. The place was impressive—luxurious in every way. I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. Part of me was in awe. This was the life I had always dreamed of: a loving family, wealth, and friends. But another part of me, the cautious, street-smart survivor, couldn't shake the feeling that everything came with a price, especially with death. Nothing this good is free, what's the cost for all of this? I wondered.

As we reached the building, Penny waved goodbye, her car—the sleek Porsche 911 Turbo—purring as she drove off. I headed inside and found Dad dressed in a grey formal suit, in the middle of preparing to leave.

"Hey champ, listen, something came up. I've got to head into work," he explained, adjusting his coat. Before I could ask what, he did for a living, he added, "Your mom is at the hospital. Emergency surgery, so she won't be back till later, there's leftover food from yesterday, don't burn the place down, ey."

I nodded and said my goodbyes, promising to behave. So, Mom was a doctor. Guess that checked out. But what about Dad? As he left, I couldn't help but wonder what he did for a living.

After he left, I went up to my room and sat down at my computer. Booting it up felt oddly instinctual, despite my past life being almost entirely devoid of tech. The closest I'd ever gotten to modern technology was sneaking into drive-ins to watch movies. Yet, somehow, my hands moved over the keyboard like they'd done it a thousand times before.

When the password prompt appeared, I paused. "Now what?" I thought. But, just like before, the answer surfaced in my mind as if it had always been there. "It's like the memories of my life in this world are buried, waiting for me to access them."

The desktop came into view, cluttered with folders. One, in particular, stood out: "PROJECTS." I wanted to click on it—curiosity practically clawing at me—but I reminded myself of the real reason I'd turned the computer on.

I opened the browser and began researching, starting with myself. Typing in "Jonathan Miller" brought up my picture, along with an assortment of information: social media profiles, personal details, everything. I clicked through the profiles, learning about myself and my family.

My parents were Rose and Derick Miller. Mom was a surgeon at Lenox Hill Hospital. Dad, on the other hand, was a retired Navy SEAL Commander. That explained his muscular build, but it didn't explain his current job. The black Cadillac he'd driven off in hinted at something high-level, contract work—maybe even government work.

And then it hit me. Freaking SHIELD. It made sense. His skills, his demeanor, the car—all of it fit. But SHIELD meant Hydra, and if I was right, I'd need to be careful. I can't let them get their hooks into him if he wasn't corrupted already.

I kept digging, learning everything I could. My parents' anniversary dates, our old pets, my family history—it was all there. I discovered I'd had an older sister, Loraine, or Lora for short, who died in Afghanistan on a tour of duty with the army rangers two years ago. She had been eight years older than me. Her picture stopped me cold. Her face was a striking blend of Mom and Dad's features, with caramel skin and a crown of curly black hair. She was beautiful, and there was a fierce warmth in her eyes. "What was she like?" I wondered. "Would she have and I have gotten along?"

Shaking off the emotion, I turned my attention to the bigger questions—my powers. I didn't have them yet, but I wasn't worried. If I was like Mark, they'd kick in soon enough. When they did, I'd train in secret. The last thing I needed was SHIELD—or worse, Hydra—getting involved yet.

I continued my search, diving deeper into this world. Oscorp and Norman Osborn existed here. The Fantastic Four and Victor von Doom were part of this world too, though they hadn't yet gone to space yet, and they looked different, like Tony Stark looked like Robert Downey Jr, so did everyone else, but the characters that were originally not part of the MCU looked different. Bruce Banner was already the Hulk at this point, although it wasn't public knowledge yet, so nothing on the internet, probably still in Brazil. Captain America was still missing in action, presumed dead, I guess he was still frozen somewhere in the ice.

The more I learned, the clearer it became—this wasn't just the MCU I knew from the movies. It was something more. "I'm gonna call it MCU Plus," I thought, chuckling internally. "Well, here we go."

As I sifted through the information on my computer, something unexpected happened—a flood of memories surged through my mind, vivid and unrelenting. I saw my parents, their faces younger and full of joy, holding me as a baby. I saw Lora, my sister, laughing as she ruffled my hair, her voice a comforting melody. Our late dog bounded through those memories, its tail wagging as it chased me around our backyard. I saw the old house in New Jersey, its creaky porch steps and the warm glow of its living room.

Scenes from my life played out in flashes: meeting Penny at school, her wide grin and confident demeanor instantly making her stand out; the two of us becoming fast friends. The school I attended was called Horace Mann, and apparently, I had been part of the science club. That revelation brought a grin to my face. "Of course I was a genius. Thank you, for honoring that wish, Death."

But the memories weren't complete. There were gaps—like where exactly we'd lived in New Jersey or who Penny's dad was. I could feel those memories just out of reach, like locked doors waiting for the right key to open them. "Maybe a strong trigger would unlock the some more", I thought. For now, I accepted what I had and focused on the task at hand.

After finishing my research, I was about to shut down the computer when I remembered the folder labeled "PROJECTS." My curiosity burned, so I clicked on it. Inside, I found designs and blueprints, meticulously detailed. They were for all sorts of things, including parts for a car. "My car, apparently—a 1988 red Camaro". That thought made me pause. "I have a car? Nice."

But one folder stood out: "Scouter." I couldn't help but chuckle. Clearly, old me had been an anime fan, just like I was in my previous life. Manga and comics had always been my escape, my comfort during tough times. Clicking on the folder revealed a concept for a communication device and portable computer, reminiscent of the scouters from Dragon Ball Z. The only issue was that the prototype wasn't functional yet—it lacked several components that did not excist yet, such as a sufficient power source.

Another folder caught my attention: "Personal Assistant." I opened it and found lines of programming code for what looked to be an AI. The designs were ambitious and detailed, including schematics for a dense, compact storage system that seemed intended to integrate with the scouter prototype. "What was old me planning?" I wondered, impressed by the ingenuity.

After poring over the files for a while, I finally shut the computer down and stretched out on my bed. My thoughts were a swirling storm of plans and possibilities. I was 17 now, which meant my powers could kick in at any moment. When they did, I would need to start training immediately. Loki's invasion was only two years away, and I had to be ready.

Then there was Monaco—just two and a half weeks away. I remembered that it was where Ivan Vanko would attack Stark. If I recalled correctly, no one was hurt during the incident. Part of me felt a strange excitement at the thought of seeing an actual Iron Man suit up close. The other part of me, the one shaped by years of survival in my old life, screamed caution. "Don't take unnecessary risks. Stay out of trouble."

I brushed those thoughts aside, allowing myself to daydream about what was to come. The world felt vast and full of potential, and I was standing at the edge of it all, ready to dive in. Eventually, my daydreams gave way to sleep, and I drifted off, the weight of the day finally slipping away.

I woke hours later to the sound of the front door opening. My parents had returned home. Their voices echoed faintly through the apartment, and for a moment, I simply lay there, listening. This was my life now, and it was only just beginning.

One Week later

Aweek had passed, and I had immersed myself in learning everything I could about this incredible, vibrant world. School was... interesting, to say the least. I stayed close to Penny, letting her handle all the talking. It seemed to suit me—or rather, old me—so I didn't feel like I was out of character. Another thing I discovered: I had no girlfriend. That was a relief, really; I wouldn't have had the slightest idea where to begin with explaining why I did not know her.

But the most notable event of the week wasn't about school or Penny. No, it was the day my powers finally decided to show up. While I was excited, they made their grand debut at what could only be described as either the worst or the best possible moment, depending on your perspective.

Apparently, I had a bully at school—a real piece of work whose name I kept forgetting. That, it turned out, was part of the problem. The day's drama started because I'd had the audacity to forget his name. To make matters worse, he was Penny's boyfriend. Around her, he played the part of the perfect gentleman, the model boyfriend everyone admired. But alone, just us boys, he was something else entirely, to this day, I still try to understand how she could fall for that ogre.

That day, him and his equally oversized buddy decided to teach me a lesson. Their plan? Dunk my head in the toilet. Classic bully tactics. They followed me into the boy's toilets, and ambushed me, hoisted me up, laughing and jeering, ready to make good on their threat. I should have been terrified, but I got really angry, in my previous life, I had to put up with this nonsense, as I was just the homeless kid, the sewer rat, but now, I was someone, I came from a well off family, yet I still got bullied, no, no more. Something inside me snapped. With all the strength I could muster, I kicked out, my leg still in the grip of the main bully—Clint, I think his name was. My kick overpowered his hold effortlessly and connected with his shoulder. To my shock and delight, I heard a satisfying crunch, and Clint's face twisted in pain.

Everything slowed down after that. I scrambled to my feet, adrenaline surging, as Clint crumpled to the ground, clutching his shoulder. His buddy, wide-eyed with shock, decided to take a swing at me. I saw it coming but had no time—or training—to dodge. His punch landed square on my face with all his strength. But here's the thing: I barely felt it. The force of his punch broke his hand against my face, his knuckles cracking audibly. He collapsed, clutching his ruined hand and screaming in agony.

I stood there, still processing what had happened, when the principal burst into the bathroom. His gaze swept over the scene—the two bullies writhing on the floor, one clutching his shoulder, the other his hand—and then locked onto me, and I could see it, he was going to pin the whole thing on me, figures. Without a word, he barked orders for other students to take the injured boys to the clinic. As for me, I was ordered to the office. My parents were called.

When my parents arrived, the principal launched into a tirade about how I'd injured two "promising football players," potentially ending their careers. He wanted to expel me on the spot. But my parents weren't having it. They revealed that they knew that he was getting pressured by the bullies' parents, who had influence, to pass a harsh punishment on me. My parents then threatened legal action, stating they had evidence of the two bullies harassing me and threatened to escalate the matter to a higher level. With no choice, the principal dropped the issue, though his disapproval was evident.

Things didn't end there, though. Penny and I had a heated argument after the incident. She was mad that I had attacked Clint, and even after I tried to explain to her what had happened, she defended her "perfect" boyfriend, accusing me of going too far. I couldn't believe it. I stormed off and we hadn't spoken since.

That evening, when we got home, my dad pulled me aside. To my surprise, he told me he was proud of me for standing up for myself. Then, he mentioned something unexpected: starting this weekend, he would begin training me in martial arts. If I excelled, he promised to teach me even more. That cryptic "more" piqued my curiosity, but another thought weighed on me—my powers. I needed to figure out how to control them. The last thing I wanted was to accidentally hurt my dad during training.

After dinner, I excused myself, claiming I was tired and heading to bed early. A few hours later, just before midnight, once the house was silent, I quietly slipped out of my window. "It's time to figure out what I can do," I thought.

I decided to start with flight. Remembering how Omni-Man explained it in the comics, when he was teaching Mark how to use his abilities, I concentrated, Tensing my muscles, and willing myself into the air. Nothing could have prepared me for the rush of exhilaration that followed. As my feet lifted off the ground, I felt an overwhelming sense of freedom. The cool night air whipped past me as I soared higher and faster, the city below becoming a blur of lights.

I flew for several minutes, marveling at the sensation, before realizing how exhausting it was. My muscles burned, and I had to tense and relax them to maintain my flight. It was like a full-body workout, but it worked.

Testing my speed, I flew from the Bronx to the Statue of Liberty in just two minutes. "Damn, I'm fast," I thought, grinning. Landing near Liberty Island in an empty parking lot, I decided to test my strength next. A U-Haul truck sat nearby, and I approached it cautiously. Knocking on the side to ensure it was empty, I was relieved to find no one inside. I smiled, realizing that as long as I consciously held back, controlling my strength wouldn't be too difficult.

I grabbed the back of the truck, and to my astonishment, I easily lifted it over my head. My grin widened. I tried more challenges—two cars at once, a semi-truck. While heavier, the semi wasn't much of a problem. Then, I flew to an abandoned train yard and attempted to lift a locomotive. It budged but wouldn't go any higher. An empty carriage, however, was manageable. I lifted it over my head, though I could feel the strain.

Doing the mental math, I estimated the carriage weighed around 30 tons, meaning my maximum lift was likely about 50 tons. Impressive, sure, but not quite on the level of comic book legends like Hulk or Thor. Still, it was a start. "This train yard could be my personal gym,", I thought. "With enough training, I'll get even stronger."

Satisfied with my progress, I decided it was time to call it a night, and I flew home, I decided to push myself to my limits, testing my speed again. I made it home in under 2 minutes, but I nearly crashed into the wall of our apartment, struggling to slow down in time, but managed to stop at my window at the last moment. Breathing a sigh of relief, I quietly opened my window, slipping back inside, I changed into my pajamas and crawled into bed. As I drifted off, I couldn't help but wonder what the future held for me.