The sounds of chattering and blaring horns filled the air, the morning streets of New York already buzzing with life. Sunlight cut through the gaps in the blinds, piercing directly into Zayne Callahan's eyes. He stirred, face creasing into a frown.
"Is something wrong with the cooling system?" he mumbled groggily.
He sat up, still half-asleep, expecting the familiar sight of his sleek, minimalist bedroom. Instead, his eyes landed on peeling wallpaper, creaky wooden furniture, and an old fan spinning lazily on the ceiling.
Zayne blinked. Once. Twice.
His face remained neutral as he scanned the unfamiliar room. No panic. Just calculated observation. He dropped back onto the bed, arms crossed behind his head.
"Okay," he muttered. "Still dreaming. Probably overstressed."
But minutes passed, and the familiar chill of his state-of-the-art temperature system never came. Sweat clung to his forehead. The air felt too real.
This time, he sat up sharply.
"What the fuck?" he muttered, standing. "Where the hell am I?"
He inspected the room again. Wood flooring, dusty curtains, an old bookshelf stacked with faded paperbacks. The place looked... lived-in, but modest. Definitely not his ultra-secure mansion.
He walked through the hallway, finding himself in a two-storey home that screamed "middle-class comfort" instead of "billionaire fortress."
He flung the front door open and stepped outside. The bustling noise hit him full-force—foot traffic, cars honking, kids racing down sidewalks.
But it wasn't the chaos that stole his breath.
It was the billboard across the street.
STARK INDUSTRIES: Pioneering the Future
Zayne froze.
No. Way.
He didn't even process the people around him anymore. Didn't hear the impatient driver yelling at someone to move. His brain hit a hard reboot.
He turned around, walked back inside, and sat heavily on the bed.
"Okay. Okay," he said aloud, rubbing his temples. "Let's not jump to conclusions."
He stood and walked to a dusty desk in the corner. A laptop sat there—ancient by his standards, but functional. He powered it on, found an unsecured Wi-Fi network, and got to work.
Hours passed. He combed through news articles, press releases, and videos. First came the expected headlines: Tony Stark declares himself Iron Man. That tracked.
But then... he found them.
A video feed. Shaky footage from a civilian phone. Three individuals in sleek, stylized suits battling alien-looking creatures in Times Square. It wasn't CGI. It wasn't a hoax.
"Dino Thunder suits," Zayne breathed, eyes wide. "That's... that's Kira's blaster. And Connor's armor. What the actual hell?"
He slammed the laptop shut and leaned back, exhaling long and hard.
"Goddammit. Who the hell yeeted me into a Power Rangers-Marvel crossover?"
He stared at the ceiling.
"Would've been easier dealing with just Thanos. Now we've got weekly kaiju battles and interdimensional invasions to look forward to. Perfect."
Still, his expression slowly shifted. Annoyance gave way to something else.
A smirk.
"Well... adapt or die. Isn't that what I always say?"
He stood up again, sharper now. Calmer. He searched the room for any identification—and to his surprise, found everything in order. IDs, student cards, bank credentials.
Name: Zayne Callahan
Age: 18
Status: Orphan
School: Midtown High
Bank Balance: $300,000
Background: Martial arts prodigy, some local awards
"Okay, mysterious universe god, thanks for not screwing me over," he said dryly. "Could've done worse."
He took out a notebook from the desk and began jotting down everything he knew:
Stark is alive
Power Rangers exist (Dino Thunder confirmed)
Likely a fused universe (MCU + PR canon)
Timeline: Pre-Avengers, post-Iron Man reveal Midtown High = Peter Parker's school
He paused.
"Ancient One might be a problem," he muttered. "She'll probably sense the anomaly sooner or later."
He shrugged, then began tidying the house. Despite everything, Zayne's obsession with order never faded. He vacuumed, dusted, and wiped down every surface. An hour later, the place looked respectable.
Feeling more at ease, he returned to his notebook.
"Alright," he said aloud, sitting at the desk again. "I've got knowledge. Strength. Prep time. Let's build the future."
He wrote out two columns: Short-Term Goals and Long-Term Goals.
Short-Term:
Blend in at school, Gauge tech level, Locate major players (Parker, Stark, Dr. Strange, etc.)
Acquire lab access for physical enhancement (At least I'll have enough strength to protect myself)
Long-Term:
Unlock potential of this body/universe (Learn magic since it's possible in this universe)
Avoid unnecessary attention from cosmic beings
Create contingency plans for multiversal events
Despite the chaos of the day, something about this world excited him. A part of him—the part that had devoured comics and watched every anime and superhero series imaginable—was silently screaming with joy.
This was the dream.
A chance to be part of something bigger than a boardroom or battlefield.
He stood, stretched, and cracked his knuckles.
"Time to explo—"
A heavenly chime interrupted him.
[DING]
[Congratulations, Master, on successfully transmigrating.]
[The Omniversal Grid is at your service.]
Zayne froze.
A translucent screen hovered in front of him, pulsing with energy. White text shimmered against a blue-silver interface.
"What the..." he stepped closer, eyes wide. "Did I just get the protagonist treatment?"
He squinted at the text. "Omniversal Grid? I only know the Morphin Grid. What the hell is this?"
[Correct. The Morphin Grid is a shard of the greater Omniversal Grid.]
[Would you like a comprehensive explanation, Master?]
Zayne's heart pounded. A dozen theories flashed through his mind. Was this an AI? A divine entity? A system? Why was he chosen?
He stared at the screen for several long seconds before finally speaking.
"Yes," he said, voice firm. "Tell me everything."
--- ✦ ---
Next time on Power Rangers x Marvel
Zayne's eyes narrowed. "Multiversal convergence?"
"Dad, are you watching your son? He's a Power Ranger now" He spoke with sadness in his tone.
Stay tuned for the next chapter.
GO GO POWER RANGERS!!!