A/N
New chapter!!
Why haven't I uploaded any chapters in a while? Easy, college work........
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Once in my life, I asked myself, "What is a lucid dream?"
I still remember looking it up on the internet when I was a kid. They described it as a dream where you knew it was a "dream," and you could do whatever you wanted—control it, bend it to your will, or something like that.
As a kid, I thought that was amazing.
But it had never happened to me. Not once in my life. The longer I went without having even a single "lucid dream," the more I started to think it was all nonsense—a made-up story people told to sound cool.
The only thing I remember before falling asleep that night was spending the whole day in the apartment with Chara after everything that happened at the club. I didn't go out or do anything. Night came, and I decided to go to bed. And now… I was experiencing something I'd thought was a lie since I was a kid.
I was standing on the roof of a building, looking out over the streets of New York. The view was familiar. I was in Queens. I remembered these streets—I used to live here with my parents when I was a child. Well… David's memories, anyway. Memories of him as a kid, living here with his parents.
I looked around, and everything seemed normal, but… something felt strange. I slowly raised my hand and, to my surprise, saw small black orbs form out of nowhere in my palm. They weren't just black dots—each one was surrounded by a faint glowing halo, their edges flickering unevenly, as if they were burning with strange energy. The dots multiplied quickly, swirling around in a chaotic little swarm, like an anthill made of living particles that sparked with tiny bursts of light.
The glow around my hand didn't fade. Instead, it got sucked into those orbs, bending and twisting as if being pulled in. They moved together like a rippling wave, and faint electric sparks jumped between them.
I moved my hand slowly through the air, and the pulsing orbs followed me perfectly, like they were stuck to me.
"This is…" I couldn't even finish the sentence. What word could I use? "Incredible"? "Amazing"? "Fantastic"? I had no idea.
I just kept staring at my hand, completely absorbed. The way the energy moved was… hypnotic.
I turned my hand and watched the orbs shift. Then I closed my fist, and they seemed to move differently—more erratic, almost unstable.
"If this is a lucid dream, then…"
I opened my palm, and in an instant, I was somewhere else—standing on a sidewalk. People walked calmly past me, cars rolled down the street. Everything looked perfectly normal.
"Wow," I murmured, genuinely amazed. I started walking down the street like anyone else, but then I noticed… nobody seemed to see me.
Two people were talking nearby, so I walked up to them. I put my left hand right in front of one of their faces and waved it around. Nothing. No reaction. It was like I wasn't even there.
Well… maybe that's just normal in a lucid dream.
So I kept walking. Everything looked normal—except for the part where no one could tell I existed.
Eventually, my curiosity got the better of me. I looked at my hand again, saw the energy still pulsing, and snapped my fingers.
In the blink of an eye, everything changed.
Now the streets were empty. Buildings were half-collapsed, cars abandoned and wrecked, windows shattered.
"Okay… did I just teleport to a post-apocalyptic world or something?" I muttered, staring at the destruction.
I kept walking down the ruined street, my steps echoing. "Well… I definitely underestimated these kinds of dreams. They're way cooler than I thought."
I wandered for a while, until I saw someone up ahead.
A figure in the middle of the street, back turned toward me, crouched down. I could hear a wet, disturbing sound—chewing.
"It hurts… I need more… fuck fuck fuck."
The voice was low and strained. I stepped closer, and that's when I saw it.
A red and blue suit. A spider emblem on the back.
"Spider-Man?" I said out loud, confused.
The figure stopped. His head twitched, turning slightly in my direction.
I could see the mask—or what was left of it. Big pieces were torn away, revealing one of his eyes. The socket looked damaged and cracked, dried blood clinging to it. The eye itself was bloodshot, threaded with deep red veins.
The lower half of his mask was gone. His mouth—or what remained—was horrifying. Rotten flesh hung in strips, his jawbone exposed, lips completely gone. His yellow teeth were slick with dried blood.
Parts of his suit were ripped, showing chunks of decayed, rotting flesh underneath.
He stared at me, unblinking, like a predator sizing up its next meal.
I didn't move. I just locked eyes with him.
Zombie Spider-Man?
Suddenly, the zombie Spider-Man pointed his hand at me. A web shot out, hitting me square in the chest. Before I could react, my feet left the ground, and I was yanked toward him at high speed.
"Wow, that feels… surprisingly realistic," I muttered, grabbing the web stuck to my chest and ripping it off. But before I could hit the ground, I froze midair—completely still, as if my whole body had been locked in place.
Spider-Man just stared at me. His expression didn't change—not that I could read it anyway, since most of his face was just exposed bone—but then he suddenly leapt backward in a massive jump, landing hard on top of an abandoned car. The roof crumpled and sank under his weight.
He looked… alert. Or maybe that's not the right word. His face was more skeleton than flesh, so "alert" might not even apply.
"Did you find more food?"
A new voice cut through the air. I turned toward the sound and saw someone else approaching.
Captain America.
Well… sort of. His suit was mostly intact, but his face… his face was shredded, with chunks of skin missing. His jaw was bare bone, stained with dried blood. His eyes were pure white, lifeless. And in his hand, he still held his iconic shield.
"Oh, Colonel America—yes, I found some fresh meat," Spider-Man's voice came, ragged and strange. "But it might be a bit tricky to eat." He sounded impatient.
Captain America—or Colonel America, I guess—locked his empty white eyes on me and opened his mouth. "Okay… we're starving. I'm losing my mind."
Then I heard more footsteps. Heavy, dragging footsteps.
Out of the shadows came Wolverine, Iron Man, Luke Cage, and Hulk. All of them in pieces—torn-up bodies, jaws without lips or muscle, skin rotting away. Their white, dead eyes fixed on me.
"Oh, great… this is bad," I muttered as they all lunged toward me with low, guttural growls.
"Nope."
I snapped my fingers—and instead of landing on a different street, I was suddenly floating in the middle of space. Stars stretched endlessly in every direction.
Weirdly enough, I could breathe just fine.
At first, it was peaceful. But then… I started to feel uneasy.
"Interesting, huh?"
The voice came from everywhere—above me, below me, all around me at once.
"Who's there?!" I shouted, my own voice echoing across the void.
Okay… this doesn't feel like a dream anymore.
"Relax. I won't hurt you…"
I snapped my fingers again, trying to change the scenery, but… nothing happened. Then I looked at my hand—and the pulsing energy was gone. Completely gone.
"You've been using my gift in curious, playful, and limited ways… and that's fine. It's actually a good thing you didn't dive straight into something dangerous. After all, corruption is… unpleasant, don't you think, David?"
"Who are you…?" I asked, though I already had an idea.
At first, "AA" didn't ring any bells. Maybe some random cosmic being who gave me powers for fun? Some entity just tossing me a gift? I wasn't a Marvel expert—sure, I knew some stuff, but not everything.
But now it clicked. "AA" made me remember. And once it did, I couldn't believe I'd forgotten.
"You are…" I murmured.
"Yes. I am…" the voice echoed from every corner of existence.
Suddenly, a beam of golden light slammed into me. I shielded my face with my arm—it was so bright it almost hurt to look at.
Then, as quickly as it came, the light dimmed. I lowered my arm… and saw him.
A completely golden figure stood before me. Long, flowing golden hair drifted as if caught in a breeze, even though there was no air here in space.
The first thought that came to my mind: The One Above All.
"So… why me?" I asked. It was the most obvious question in the world when the most powerful being in all of Marvel was standing right in front of you.
"I knew you'd ask that," he said, his warm voice carrying a strange calm. "But… I like mystery. Intrigue. It's beautiful, isn't it?"
"Heh… I'm not sure I'd call it beautiful," I replied.
"Well… I'll give you one question," he said with something that I think was a smile—though his golden face made it impossible to be sure. "Only one. Maybe… someday, I'll appear before you again and give you another chance to ask another."
"Alright… then what's the mask?" I asked without hesitation.
"The mask… is a gift. An unknown potential. It is not omnipotent, but it is powerful. David… you will have to learn to use it. It is a weapon that can bring creation… or destruction. Two sides of the same coin. You could make something beautiful… but also something terrible if you give in to corruption. That is why you must tame it. Resist it. Fight it, step by step, like climbing an endless staircase. Only by resisting will the gift truly be yours. Fight, resist, fight. That is your gift. The spark."
"Then—"
"That is all, David… now… wake up, my son. Come to your senses… and think."
And then… everything shattered around me like broken glass.
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David's eyes snapped open. The ceiling of his room slowly came into focus—a familiar ceiling he'd stared at countless times before. That familiarity grounded him, easing the lingering tension from the strange "dream" he'd just had.
His breathing steadied, and he let out a slow sigh of relief. But then… he felt something on his chest.
Frowning, he reached up and grabbed it. When he brought it into view, his heart skipped a beat.
The mask.
A creeping discomfort started building inside him. "That… I don't think it was a dream, was it? This is already complicated."
He stared at the mask, his mind replaying flashes from what had just happened—if it even was a dream.
"That is all, David… now… wake up, my son. Come to your senses… and think."
Suddenly, a wave of nausea slammed into him. "Oh… damn—"
He tossed the mask onto the bed and bolted from the room. His stomach churned violently, and he barely made it to the bathroom before leaning over the toilet and vomiting hard.
"URGHHHHH!!" The sound echoed in the small bathroom as if he were emptying everything inside him.
"Oh… my stomach—URGHHHH!" Another round hit, his body shaking as it tried to force out whatever was left.
Minutes later, he was sitting on the cold bathroom floor, leaning against the wall, staring blankly into space.
"Resist it. Fight it, step by step, like climbing an endless staircase. Only by resisting will the gift truly be yours. Fight, resist, fight. That is your gift."
TOAA's words wouldn't leave his head.
"I have to wear the mask to fight the corruption… but the more I wear it, the more it corrupts me. How the hell am I supposed to fight it?" he muttered, rubbing his forehead.
"Two sides of the same coin…" he whispered, his eyes fixed on the tiled floor, lost in thought.
"Hey, what are you doing?"
Chara's voice snapped him out of it.
"Oh, you… I had to throw up. Guess last night's food didn't sit right with me," David said casually, glancing toward him.
Chara eyed him with a blank expression. "Yeah, I can tell. You look like a homeless. Take a shower."
"Yeah… get out. I'm gonna take one now," David said, standing and waving a hand for Chara to move away from the bathroom door. Chara just walked off, and David shut the door behind him.
As hot water poured over him, David's thoughts returned to the mask. He needed to set limits—rules. TOAA had called it a gift with "unknown potential," but that didn't mean diving into full power right away was smart. If anything, going too far too fast could backfire.
He decided he'd pace himself—learn what it could do little by little, avoid anything too extreme for now. If the mask was powerful enough, even cosmic beings could notice it. And since TOAA said it wasn't omnipotent, it had to have limits. He needed to understand those before pushing further.
After his shower, David headed into the living room. Chara was there, lounging on the couch and watching TV.
"Hey, Chara—anything on the news about the club?" David asked, taking a seat on the other side of the couch.
"Nope, nothing," Chara replied flatly.
David raised an eyebrow. He'd expected it to be all over the news. With that many civilians around, surely at least one person would've stumbled onto a dead worker in some off-limits area. But… nothing.
That left two possibilities in David's mind—someone had covered up the massacre… or something else had happened entirely.
"Do you want to go get some coffee? I know a good café. I need to calm my mind," David said while watching the television.
"Well, that sounds good. I want to explore the city," Chara replied, getting up from the couch with a smile. Something about that smile felt a little unsettling to David, but he ignored it.
"Wait, I need to bring something. Safety first," David said, standing up from the couch and heading toward his room.
When he stepped inside, his eyes landed on the mask lying on the bed for a moment. Then he went over to the closet and spotted a backpack he hadn't used in a while. He pulled it out, walked to the bed, picked up the mask, and carefully placed it inside the backpack.
"I can't leave you here, but I'm not going to use you right now. I don't want to corrupt myself…" David muttered as he stared at the mask inside the bag before zipping it closed.
"Alright, time to change clothes. It's a bit chilly today."
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"Haaa… this feels good. A good cup of coffee always clears my mind in the morning," David said with a small smile as he set his coffe down on the table.
Chara sat across from him, sipping his coffee—sweetened with sugar—while casually gazing out the café window, watching people walk along the sidewalk.
David glanced outside for a moment, then at the backpack beside him—where the mask was.
He pulled the bag a little closer to his place and let out a quiet sigh of relief before turning back to the peaceful view outside.
Taking in the calm scene, he pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and started searching online for anything connected to the club.
He scrolled for a while, but found nothing, which left him frowning in confusion.
"Maybe… it was some undercover thing, or something happened there that I couldn't see because I left early," David thought, his eyes fixed on the glow of his phone screen.
While David was scrolling through the news on his phone, Chara kept his gaze on the window. He was watching the people on the sidewalk—couples walking hand in hand, kids running alongside their parents—when something caught his eye.
Something up in the sky.
Something moving toward them. Fast.
"Car," Chara said sharply.
"Huh?" David looked up at him, confused, then followed Chara's gaze out the window. His eyes went wide when he spotted it—a small speck in the sky rapidly growing larger.
It was a car.
A car plummeting straight toward them.
David's hand shot to the backpack at his side, gripping it tightly.
"This is a fucking pran—"
Before he could even finish, Chara shot forward with superhuman speed, yanking David by the jacket and leaping them both out of the way.
*BOOM!*
The car smashed through the café's glass wall with an ear-splitting crash, the sound of metal crumpling and glass exploding into a million razor-sharp pieces. Dust and debris filled the air in a choking cloud.
Chunks of concrete went flying, scattering across the café floor. By pure luck, no one had been seated right where the car landed. The café had been open for less than an hour, and although there were still a few customers inside, the spot Chara had pulled David from was empty.
"AHHHHHH!"
"HELP!!"
Panic-filled screams echoed through the café.
"Shit… my head—COUGH! COUGH!" David hacked through the dust clogging the air.
When he finally opened his eyes, all he could see was chaos. The car sat lodged deep into the wreckage of the café, surrounded by shattered furniture and crumbled stone.
Chara was still gripping his jacket tightly.
"Hey, I'm fine now. Let go," David said. Chara released him, his expression calm but sharp.
"That was close. A second slower and you'd be dead," Chara said, eyes scanning the destruction. It had all happened in moments—one second slower and David would've been nothing but mangled flesh.
"Yeah… thanks, kid. Damn it, who the hell threw that car? And launched it into the air like that? That's insane strength," David said as he got to his feet, still a little shaky. Around them, people were panicking, some frozen in shock, others scrambling for the exit. David's heart hammered in his chest, cold sweat trailing down his back as the reality sank in—he had been seconds away from being crushed to death.
"SPIDER!!!"
The bellow came from outside, deep and booming, dripping with a thick Russian accent.
David turned toward an unbroken window and stepped closer to look. Outside, he spotted the source of the voice—an enormous man with rough gray skin, standing at least seven feet tall, his body stacked with muscle. A massive rhinoceros horn jutted from his forehead.
"Rhino…?" David muttered under his breath, recognizing one of Spider-Man's villains.
The villain looked enraged—absolutely seething. But there was one problem.
David didn't see Spider-Man anywhere.
"This… is a problem."