The harsh, artificial glow of the hospital room was the last thing Liam saw. A sudden, searing pain in his chest, then nothing. Just… emptiness. A profound, consuming void where his vibrant, chaotic life had once been. He'd died, he realized, not with a bang, but a whimper, succumbing to an unexpected cardiac arrest in his sleep. A cruel twist, considering his meticulous health regimen.
Then, a voice, deep and resonant, echoed not in his ears, but in the very fabric of his non-existence. "A brief, unremarkable existence, Liam. But an ending nonetheless."
Liam, or what remained of him, felt a flicker of surprise. He wasn't truly gone, not completely. "Who... who are you?"
A being coalesced before him, a swirling vortex of starlight and shadow, formless yet undeniably present. "I am many things. A facilitator. A witness. A being who occasionally intervenes when the cosmic ledger requires a slight re-balancing. Your ledger, Liam, has a unique opportunity for correction."
"Correction?" Liam's non-existent eyebrows would have risen.
"Indeed. You died prematurely, Liam. A statistical anomaly. I offer you a chance to rectify that. A rebirth. In a new world. The Marvel Cinematic Universe, to be precise. And as a bonus, five wishes to shape your new destiny." The being's presence, though powerful, was strangely benevolent.
Liam's mind, freed from the constraints of a physical body, raced. The MCU? Five wishes? This was… beyond anything he could have imagined. His first wish formed instantly, a desire that had always simmered beneath his conscious thoughts. "I want Rick Sanchez's intelligence. Every aspect of it – the scientific genius, the strategic mind, the ability to learn and adapt at an impossible rate."
The being paused, a ripple in its starry form. "A potent choice. Granted. What is your second wish?"
"I want to be a Nexus and Singularity being," Liam declared, his voice gaining a newfound certainty. "Free from fate and destiny. There is only one of me in the entire multiverse, and cloning is impossible. My existence is utterly unique."
"Interesting. To transcend the very fabric of multiversal replication. Granted. Your third wish?"
"I want to be an Absolute Existence," Liam stated, the words flowing with an effortless confidence he hadn't possessed moments ago. "Immune to death and existence erasure. My very existence is absolute, a rule of the cosmos, not tied to biology. If someone tests my DNA, they'll find nothing special, but I am simply… un-erasable."
The being's form brightened, a subtle hum emanating from its core. "A fascinating interpretation of immortality. Granted. Your fourth wish?"
"Omni-Energy Manipulation," Liam said, envisioning the boundless potential. "This power is also not tied to my biology; it comes from my soul, a fundamental rule of my being. I can control and create all forms of energy."
"A comprehensive power. Granted. And finally, your fifth wish?"
Liam took a moment, letting the weight of his previous wishes settle. This last one needed to tie everything together, to truly define his freedom. "I want the ability to Teleport to anywhere I want, at any time. This ability allows me to travel the multiverse and the omniverse without causing any incisions or paradoxes. Again, this power is from my soul, not my biology."
"An excellent choice to complement your singular existence and boundless energy. Granted." The being's light intensified, then began to recede. "Your new life awaits, Liam. In a world shaped by familiar events, yet subtly altered by the presence of a powerful, ancient monarchy in Russia. You shall be born in 1989, the heir to this royal line. And you will not be alone in your generation of gifted individuals."
Darkness enveloped him once more, but this time, it was a comforting, expectant darkness. He felt a shift, a compression, a sense of being reformed.
The year was 1989. In a lavish, historically preserved wing of the Grand Kremlin Palace, the sounds of childbirth echoed. The whispers of ancient traditions mingled with the hushed urgency of modern medicine. Outside, in the vast, snow-dusted expanse of Red Square, the iconic red banner still flew, emblazoned not with the hammer and sickle, but with the double-headed eagle of the Romanov dynasty. For in this altered timeline, the Bolshevik Revolution had been crushed, and a resilient, iron-fisted royal family had ruled Russia since the mid-1800s, consolidating power with ruthless efficiency. Their grip on the nation was absolute; every institution, every individual, owed their unwavering loyalty to the Tsar and his bloodline.
Inside, a healthy baby boy was delivered. He was fair-skinned, with a shock of dark hair and eyes that held an uncanny depth for a newborn. Prince Anatoly Mikhailovich Romanov. The new heir.
News of the birth rippled through the loyalist ranks of the Russian elite. Generals, Dukes, Royal Guards, and industrialists, all bound by generations of service, celebrated the arrival of their future sovereign. Unbeknownst to them, the cosmic ripple of Anatoly's rebirth had coincided with other unique arrivals within Russia's borders.
In a remote Siberian military outpost, a formidable baby girl named Esdeath, with eyes like chips of ice, entered the world. Her innate command over elemental ice, though dormant, was a faint echo in the frigid air.