June 15, 2012.Friday.Midtown High School, New York City.
The old gym smelled faintly of rubber and dust.
Lucas Kane stood alone beneath the flickering overhead lights, sweat dripping from his hair as his fists slammed into the hanging heavy bag.
Thud.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Each punch echoed through the empty gym. The black bag swung violently on its chain, the metal links screeching under the strain.
Lucas didn't look away.
The bag filled his entire field of vision.
Everything else—school, the city outside, the noise of New York—faded into the background.
"9,951."
"9,952."
He counted silently in his head while shifting his stance. The bag swung back toward him, and Lucas slipped sideways to avoid it before snapping another hook into the leather.
Left hook.Right cross.
The bag lurched with every impact, its worn surface creasing and tearing a little more each time.
Punch.Recover.Punch again.
His rhythm accelerated.
Faster.
And faster.
"10,000."
Lucas's eyes sharpened.
His fist shot forward like a striking snake and slammed into the heavy bag just as it swung back toward him.
BANG.
The bag caved inward with a dull, painful thump.
The chain above it snapped.
For a split second the bag hung in midair before flying backward and crashing onto the hardwood floor.
BOOM.
Silence returned to the gym.
Lucas exhaled slowly, the breath leaving his chest like a release valve finally opening.
He stood still for a moment, catching his breath.
Sweat streamed down his face, gathering along his jaw before dripping onto the collar of his worn T-shirt.
His sweatpants were damp as well.
They had cost twelve dollars.
For most people in New York, that would qualify as cheap.
For Lucas Kane, it wasn't.
Because in this life, he was an orphan.
And not just any orphan—he was someone who had been reborn into the Marvel Universe.
If his grades hadn't been strong enough to earn a scholarship to Midtown High, the tuition alone would have been impossible for him to afford.
Even with the scholarship, Lucas lived carefully.
Not because he enjoyed being frugal.
Because he had to.
His scholarship covered tuition, but it wasn't the elite academic grant someone like Gwen Stacy had.
Gwen's awards were the kind that paid for everything—and then some. Competitions, research programs, academic bonuses. Midtown practically threw money at her.
Lucas's scholarship was far simpler.
Tuition covered. Nothing more.
Still, he considered himself lucky.
As a federal orphan between sixteen and eighteen—classified under the "independent transition" category—he received a monthly support stipend of eight hundred dollars.
New York State added another five hundred because Midtown High was considered an elite academic institution.
That meant Lucas had about thirteen hundred dollars coming in every month.
For an adult in New York City, that wouldn't be nearly enough.
For a seventeen-year-old with free tuition, it was more than workable.
He ate most of his meals at school.
He slept in a low-cost federal housing apartment provided for orphaned students.
After basic expenses—about five hundred dollars a month—he could still save nearly eight hundred.
Most people his age spent money on phones, internet plans, and weekend outings.
Lucas had none of those.
No phone bill.
No internet bill.
He didn't even own a computer.
If he needed the internet, the school library had public terminals. Printing was free.
And being an orphan meant something else too.
No one called him.
And there was no one for him to call.
So the routine stayed simple.
Every afternoon after school he came to the gym.
Ten thousand punches.
Then a shower.
Wash his clothes in the locker room sink.
Catch the last free school bus home.
Sleep.
Wake up early and take the first bus back.
Repeat.
Occasionally he treated himself to a bucket of fried chicken from a cheap takeout place nearby—extra calories after training.
Thanks to years of saving, his bank account had quietly grown past thirty thousand dollars.
Not bad.
Lucas wiped the sweat from his brow and looked at the destroyed heavy bag lying across the gym floor.
But his focus wasn't really on the bag.
He was looking at something only he could see.
A translucent interface hovered in front of him.
[Cosmo Awakening System]
Status: LockedRequirement: 10,000 punches daily for 1000 daysProgress: 999 / 1000
Lucas's heartbeat quickened.
"So close…"
He had waited years for this moment.
The system had first appeared on September 10, 2009—when he was fifteen.
He remembered the date perfectly.
That was the day the Hulk fought the Abomination in Harlem.
The battle had nearly leveled half the district.
Watching it unfold on television had confirmed something Lucas already suspected.
This world was dangerous.
Superheroes roamed the streets.
Monsters, aliens, and gods appeared without warning.
Before the interface appeared, Lucas had assumed he would live quietly and keep his head down.
But once the system activated…
That plan changed.
If he had a path to power and ignored it, he would be an idiot.
So from the very first day the system appeared, Lucas committed himself to the requirement.
Ten thousand punches.
Every day.
No exceptions.
Rain or shine.
Sick or exhausted.
Food could wait.
Training could not.
And now—
After 999 consecutive days—
He was one step away from unlocking it.
Lucas stared at the interface.
Tomorrow.
The system would finally activate.