The first thing Jake noticed was the silence.
No sirens, no distant chatter, no crackling flames—just the low hum of the city outside his window.
The last thing he remembered was running into a collapsing building, pulling people from the wreckage, and the moment he'd realized he wasn't going to make it out. Then he awoke in a different but serene dimension, then some voice said some words and now he's here.
He stood in an unfamiliar apartment, staring out at a skyline that looked very familiar but felt completely off.
New York. Or from what he can see from inside.
Still Earth—or at least, some version of it.
He took a breath, forcing himself to focus. The apartment was large. Suspiciously large. It had everything: a sleek kitchen, a well-furnished bedroom with an attached bathroom, a cozy living area—more space than he should've had unless he was suddenly rich.
Every piece of furniture looked curated, placed with intention, as if someone had designed this space specifically for him.
Jake walked to the coffee table, where a thick book rested like a centerpiece. The moment he looked at it, an odd feeling settled in his chest, like it was staring back at him.
The book looked old, ancient even, it looked like something from his great grandpa's childhood.
Cautiously, he picked it up.
It was heavier than it looked. The pages were crisp, filled with diagrams, notes, instructions—but the language wasn't cryptic or ancient. It was direct.
"You are the Architect. Reality bends to your script." Though that was just one page, with a singular sentence
Jake frowned.
As he read further, the absurdity of the situation hit him all at once. The book outlined his new abilities—an interface, a system allowing him to edit reality as if it were code. He could summon objects, modify physics, store items, even travel between dimensions.
And, for some inexplicable reason, the entity that granted him this power had a very specific expectation:
He was meant to be a content creator. An Influencer of some kind, maybe even...
A YouTuber.
Jake exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples. Whoever did this clearly had a twisted sense of humor. He'd barely processed his own death, and now he was being assigned a career path?
Still, as ridiculous as it sounded, something about it sparked his interest. If he had the ability to manipulate existence itself, maybe there was potential in it.
And hey, if he got to follow his old dream, he could be fine with that, even though he could be used as a potential tool.
He tested a simple command—summoning the GUI (Graphical User Interface) described in the book. A translucent display materialized before him, hovering like a futuristic dashboard. Through it, he confirmed that his abilities were very real.
He could summon and store objects, view information about his surroundings, and—most interesting of all—access a Travel function.
With a deep breath, he set up his YouTube channel.
Flam Shenanigans.
The name felt right. Chaotic, playful, and extremely fitting for whatever nonsense he was about to get himself into.
Ideas flooded his mind. Traveling between dimensions? Exploring the edges of existence? Seeing what happened if he pushed the limits of physics? He scratched off "showcasing abilities" almost immediately.
The last thing he needed was attracting the attention of something—or someone—who might not appreciate a reality-bending human running around unchecked. 'Although this could just be a parallel universe some God probably exists and could obliterate me or something, that thing that sent me here might not be the only one.'
Then he did what most people suffer from, procrastination, which led him straight to Google.
His original plan was simple—browse some comics, maybe pirate a few Marvel issues, get some inspiration.
That plan died the moment he hit search.
Marvel comics didn't exist.
DC did, but he wasn't exactly a fan.
A sinking feeling gnawed at his gut as he tried something different. He searched for Tony Stark, Charles Xavier's School, and Reed Richards—not expecting fan pages, fictional lore, the usual internet discussions-no just them not existenting or something else.
What he found instead made his blood run cold.
Biographies.
Real histories.
Real things that shouldn't belong to fictional characters, fictional characters that don't fucking exist.
Stark Industries had stock values. Xavier's school had student rosters. Reed Richards had published scientific papers.
Searching up mutants? Hate campaigns. Government watchlists. Full-on conspiracy theories and suppression efforts. What the fuck was this universe?
Jake stared at the screen, heart pounding as the realization crashed into him with full force.
He wasn't in some random parallel world. He was in the Marvel Universe, or worse a random version of it. 'Damn it, couldn't that weird dude put me in the MCU, or maybe that mutant version that's Deadpool in.'
A universe where gods walked among mortals, eldritch horrors lurked in dimensions beyond comprehension, and reality itself was fragile in ways that defied explanation.
So fragile infact the original supreme being that created them has to remake them multiple times and other beings that make blowing up planets look like glow sticks rewrite reality for shits and giggles.
A universe where certain beings could erase concepts and potentially look at someone like him and decide he was an anomaly that needed to be dealt with.
Oh, the planet was destroyed alongside the anomaly? Well, it's just one planet.
His lungs refused to work for a solid minute. Panic clawed at the edges of his mind, dragging him toward spiraling thoughts—what if someone noticed him?
What if his abilities put him on some entity's radar? What if he accidentally altered something that wasn't meant to be changed?
Jake forced himself to breathe. He had to stay calm. He had power, but he was still human. There was no way he could go toe-to-toe with whatever was lurking in the depths of this universe.
Eventually, after calming down, he made a decision.
No flashy displays. No messing with reality in public. No unnecessary attention.
He was going to be an explorer.
If he was going to exist in a world of impossible beings, he'd start simple—travel, document, and learn.
Even if cosmic horrors lurked in the shadows, Earth still had nice places to visit. Nice places to visit, that may or may not house supernatural beings and superpowered beings.
but for now, that would be enough.