Chapter 1: A New Game Begins
The storm tore through the city like a villain's wrath, rain hammering the streets, thunder roaring like a cosmic battle in an MCU blockbuster. Adama Stiels sprinted across a crosswalk, his hoodie soaked, his sneakers slipping on slick asphalt, the air thick with ozone and the sharp scent of wet pavement. His backpack, stuffed with Arrowverse DVDs and a half-eaten burrito, bounced against his back, his dark hair plastered to his forehead, his heart pounding like a war drum in a climactic boss fight. Late again, Stiels. Gotta outrun the storm like I'm the Flash, he thought, his lopsided grin defiant, his dark eyes glinting with mischief despite the chaos. He was a sarcastic 17-year-old, obsessed with superhero media, his life a montage of comic shop shifts and late-night quips. A car horn blared, headlights blinding, and time fractured—tires screeched, metal twisted, pain erupted like a supernova across his chest, his vision blurring as the world spun into darkness. His last thought was a wry Game over? What a lame plot twist.
The void was cold, infinite, his body weightless, like drifting in a black hole between realities. A blue interface flickered in his mind's eye, glowing like a sci-fi HUD, its text sharp and clinical: [System: Copy System Initialized. Host: Adama Stiels. Transmigration Complete. Destination: Wednesday Universe, Season 1, Episode 1, Early September, Year 1.] Adama's consciousness snapped awake, his sarcasm a lifeline. Transmigration? This is some next-level isekai nonsense. Where's my superhero montage? The System's voice was robotic, devoid of humor: [Objective: Survive and integrate into Nevermore Academy. Skills Unlocked: Ultimate Illusion Creation, Ultimate Immortal Body.] The void dissolved, and Adama's eyes opened to a gothic hall, its towering stone walls etched with raven motifs that seemed to pulse, the air heavy with melted wax, dust, and a faint metallic tang that prickled his skin like static. Shadows danced under a wrought-iron chandelier, its candles flickering like eyes watching his arrival.
He stood in a purple-striped Nevermore uniform, his body unfamiliar—leaner, younger, an orphan boy's frame, not his own. His dark hair fell into his eyes, his skin buzzing with the System's energy, his HUD glowing faintly: [System: 0 Ultimate Skill Cards. Active Skills: Ultimate Illusion Creation, Ultimate Immortal Body.]Dead, rebooted, and stuck in a gothic RPG? Time to grind like I'm in the MCU, he thought, his pulse steady despite the disorientation, his sarcasm a shield against the surreal. A bruise from his arrival throbbed on his arm, but his Immortal Body kicked in, the pain fading as the skin knitted together, smooth and unscarred. Principal Larissa Weems approached, her blonde hair immaculate, her tailored suit crisp, her smile polite but strained, her heels clicking on the stone floor like a metronome. "Welcome to Nevermore, Mr. Stiels," she said, her voice warm but edged with authority, her blue eyes scanning him like a puzzle she couldn't solve. "This is a place for outcasts. Don't disrupt my school."
Adama's grin widened, his confidence a spark in the hall's gloom, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. "No promises, Principal. This place is like Gotham Academy, but with extra gloom," he said, his voice laced with bravado, like Tony Stark quipping in a new reality. Weems' lips twitched, a flicker of amusement, but she gestured toward the quad. "Follow the rules, and you'll find your place." Rules? I'm more of a loophole guy, he thought, his mind racing with possibilities, his goal clear: survive, charm Wednesday Addams, and make sense of this System.
The quad was a cobblestone expanse, gothic spires clawing at a gray sky, students whispering about werewolves, sirens, and gorgons, their voices a chaotic soundtrack. Adama tested his System, spotting a clumsy student spilling coffee. He focused: [System: Ultimate Illusion Creation Activated.] A swarm of ghostly ravens materialized, their wings glowing faintly, their ruby eyes glinting as they swooped over the quad, sparking screams and laughter as students scattered, their books crashing to the ground. The air hummed with magic, the ravens dissolving into mist, leaving the quad buzzing with excitement. Score one for the new guy. This System's my cheat code, he thought, his grin infectious, his heart racing like he'd just cleared a tutorial level.
Enid Sinclair bounced over, her pink sweater a bright spot against the gray stones, her blonde hair streaked with pink and blue, her blue eyes sparkling with cheer. "That was wild, Adama! You're weird, but I like it!" she said, her voice bright, her werewolf energy a stark contrast to his sarcasm, their bond sparking like sidekicks in a superhero flick. "We're gonna be besties, I can tell!" Adama chuckled, her enthusiasm infectious. "You're like the human equivalent of a puppy, Enid. I'm in." They swapped stories, Enid explaining Nevermore's outcast cliques, Adama tossing in MCU quips, their laughter echoing through the quad, students glancing curiously.
In his dorm, a stone cell with a cracked window, moonlight spilled across the floor, casting raven-like shadows that seemed to shift, watching him. The System's interface flickered, detailing its mechanics: copy powers on physical contact, store ultimate skills, no limits yet revealed. This is my Green Lantern ring, my Vibranium suit. Survive, charm Wednesday, save Nevermore—that's the mission. His memories of home—comic shops, late-night Arrowverse marathons—blurred, his new reality sharp with gothic menace. A faint ache lingered from his arrival, but his Immortal Body erased it, his skin unmarred. Level one, and I'm already rewriting the script. He checked the HUD: [System: 0 Ultimate Skill Cards. Active Skills: Ultimate Illusion Creation, Ultimate Immortal Body.] "New game, new rules," he murmured, his voice soft as sleep claimed him, the night fading into silence, Nevermore's secrets whispering in his dreams, hinting at a fateful meeting to come.