The first thing I felt was the cold.
It wasn't the mild chill of a winter's morning but a merciless, biting frost that cut straight into my bones.
My eyes snapped open, and I found myself lying on snow that shimmered like crushed glass under the pale light of dawn. For a long moment, I simply lay there, breathing, my chest rising and falling with clouds of white mist.
I sat up slowly, every muscle stiff and uncooperative, and looked around. The world was quiet, save for the endless whisper of the wind. Towering peaks surrounded me on all sides, jagged blades of stone and ice piercing the heavens. The Himalayas—there was no mistaking them.
But the strangest part wasn't the mountains. It was the faint sound of a gong echoing in the distance, the flutter of banners against stone walls, and the glow of torches climbing along a hidden path. My heart sank as recognition struck me.
I had seen this place before—not in reality, but in movies, comics, and games.
"Kamar-Taj," I whispered, the word leaving my lips like a curse.
The realization tightened my chest. This wasn't just another world. It was that world—the Marvel Universe. A place where gods walked the Earth, where alien invasions were common, and where cosmic tyrants snapped their fingers to erase half of existence.
And I was here.
My mind should have been in chaos, but strangely, it wasn't. I forced my breathing steady. Panic wouldn't help me survive. If this really was Marvel, then survival would require clarity, caution, and power.
A sudden voice broke through the icy silence.
"You finally woke up."
I turned sharply, my instincts flaring, and froze.
She stood only a few feet away, calm as if she'd been waiting all along. Her presence was commanding, yet not overwhelming. Her gaze carried weight, as if she could peel back the layers of my soul with a glance. She wasn't yet bald, nor was her face worn by centuries of wisdom. No—she was young. But unmistakable.
The Ancient One.
Or rather, before she became the figure I had once known from another life.
"You…" My voice was hoarse, almost breaking.
She regarded me with an unreadable expression before speaking again. "Brother."
The word hit me harder than the cold. For a moment, I thought I had misheard. But no—her tone was firm, her eyes certain. She meant it.
"Brother?" I echoed, as though tasting the word for the first time.
Memories—not my own—flooded my mind. A childhood in these very mountains. A bond, faint but undeniable, tied to her by blood. I staggered, clutching my chest as my two lives—my old one and this new one—collided violently inside me.
Then came the pain.
It began as a low hum in my veins, then erupted into a storm of fire and shadow. My vision blurred, the air around me warping as though reality itself bent under my presence. My skin flickered with a black-gold glow, and a crushing weight pressed against me from within.
I gasped, dropping to my knees. "What… is happening to me?"
Her eyes narrowed, sharp yet not unkind. "So it awakens."
The energy lashed out uncontrollably. The snow beneath me darkened, fracturing into ash before reforming. Space itself quivered like rippling water, and for a brief second, I glimpsed something beyond—a void that stretched into infinity, empty yet suffocating.
I clenched my fists, forcing myself not to scream. "This… power…"
"The Void," she said quietly, her voice carrying over the storm of my awakening. "Older than the mystic arts. Older than the stars themselves. A force of nothingness, the shadow that exists because creation does."
Her words anchored me, but the power inside me did not relent. It clawed at my soul, eager to consume.
I fought back. Not recklessly, not with panic—but with calculation. If this was the Void, then struggling blindly would only worsen it. So I steadied my breathing, closed my eyes, and willed myself to contain it. I imagined a dam holding back a great flood, not to destroy the water, but to guide its flow.
Slowly, agonizingly, the storm receded. The glow dimmed, the ripples in reality smoothed, and silence returned to the mountain. My body slumped, trembling, but I was still alive.
The Ancient One—Yao, as she must have been known then—approached and placed a hand on my shoulder. Her touch was grounding, her presence like an anchor in a storm.
"You did not let it consume you," she said. "That alone proves you are no ordinary man."
I exhaled sharply, the cold air burning my lungs. "I didn't ask for this power."
"No one asks," she replied softly. "But power chooses. It has chosen you."
I looked up at her, searching her calm, steady eyes. "And what am I supposed to do with it?"
Her lips curved into the faintest smile. "Learn. Survive. Protect. The dangers of this world will not wait for you to find your place. But you are not alone. As my brother, you will stand beside me."
The weight of her words sank deep into me. I wasn't merely a stranger in this universe anymore—I was her kin. That bond might shield me, but it also bound me to responsibility. If I was her brother, then by extension, I was tied to the fate of Earth itself.
I stood shakily, steadying myself against the biting wind. My body felt fragile compared to the force that had just torn through it, but my mind was clear.
Marvel was a dangerous place. One misstep and I could be crushed by gods, demons, or cosmic forces beyond comprehension. If I wanted to survive, I couldn't afford hesitation.
I clenched my fists, the faint whisper of the Void still lingering beneath my skin. This power was mine now—whether I wanted it or not. And if used correctly, it could be the edge that allowed me to endure.
I turned to Yao, meeting her gaze. "Then teach me. If I'm to live in this world, I need control."
Her smile widened just slightly, approval glinting in her eyes. "Good. You learn quickly. Then your training begins."
As she led me toward the hidden path of Kamar-Taj, I looked one last time at the towering mountains around me. Their peaks stood eternal, unyielding against the storms of time. That was how I needed to be.
Unyielding.
The wind howled, carrying with it the promise of challenges yet unseen. Somewhere out there, threats like Dormammu, Loki, and Thanos loomed on the horizon. But for now, I walked into Kamar-Taj not as a visitor, not as a stranger—but as the brother of the Supreme Sorcerer, carrying the Void within me.
And I swore, calmly but firmly, that I would not be swept aside by the chaos of this universe.
Not now. Not ever.