Third Person POV:
Alex stood alone in the center of the vast underground training chamber, a giddy grin on his face. The afterglow of his earlier transformations still buzzed in his veins, but he wasn't done. Not yet.
He cracked his neck and looked at the open space with glittering excitement. "Now… it's time for my favorite."
He spread his arms and shouted with childlike enthusiasm:
"Diamondheaddddddd!"
The transformation surged through his body. His skin hardened into faceted, translucent emerald crystals. Sharp ridges formed across his shoulders and arms, and he grew taller, heavier. The sound of refracting energy echoed like glass resonating in a wind tunnel.
"God, this feels good..." Alex muttered in a deeper, calmer voice, exhaling slowly.
Diamondhead's emotional shift was immediate—his thoughts slowed down, becoming more focused and calculated. He wasn't overwhelmed like with Heatblast, nor hyper like XLR8. He was calm. Stoic. In control.
He raised his right arm and concentrated. A long spear of crystalline energy extended from his forearm. With a flick of his wrist, he launched it at the far wall. Boom! The crystal embedded itself into the reinforced metal like a javelin.
Then, he clenched both fists, summoning a layered crystal barrier in front of him, its geometric pattern humming with energy. He retracted it, then raised a dozen tiny crystal spikes from the floor—a forest of weapons ready to fire at his command. After a second's pause, he detonated them midair into harmless shards.
"Defense, offense, terrain control… You're a walking fortress," Alex said, admiring the results.
He flexed his hand once more and summoned a crystalline shield from his left forearm, then canceled it and let out a breath.
"I could get used to this form."
A flash of light later, his crystal body reverted to flesh.
"But let's play with some tech now."
His eyes landed on a covered object in the far corner of the chamber. Pulling the tarp away revealed a red 1962 Chevrolet Corvette C1, pristine and polished, with vintage whitewall tires and a leather interior. The car had been a restoration project of his grandfather's—classic on the outside, but with potential for upgrades.
"Perfect test subject."
He closed his eyes and spoke the name with anticipation:
"Upgrade."
Black liquid metal rippled over his skin, his body elongating and warping into the sleek biomechanical form of a Galvanic Mechamorph. The transformation completed with a click of shifting tech.
"Initiating interface..." he spoke in a smooth, robotic cadence, his voice devoid of warmth but full of efficiency.
He merged with the Corvette instantly, his body absorbing into the chassis. Lights flickered across the car's dashboard as the systems came to life. Inside Upgrade's merged consciousness, Alex could feel every wire, every bolt, every outdated chip. The molecular map of the machine opened like a manual in his mind.
"Primitive combustion engine... inefficient battery storage... analog dials. Let's change that."
Working from within, he transformed the interior with smart nanotech—digital HUDs in the windshield, adaptive cruise controls, self-repairing alloys for the tires, even internal climate control systems that would put Stark Tech to shame. But he kept the exterior perfectly intact—classic curves preserved like a piece of art.
After the system confirmed completion, Alex disengaged, separating from the Corvette with a slick, liquid ripple. His body reformed into human form, though his eyes still shimmered with residual glow.
"Now let's take you for a spin."
Sliding into the driver's seat, Alex tapped the dashboard. The engine purred like a content panther. He cruised through the chamber, taking wide turns with ease. The space, large enough to store 30 cars side by side and still have room for a tech office, was more than sufficient for the test drive.
After several laps, he parked the Corvette with a satisfied sigh.
"Perfect."
But he wasn't done.
With his fingers twitching from the excitement, he stepped away from the car and shifted into one final form.
"Grey Matter."
The world warped again—not in shape, but in clarity. Alex's thoughts became perfectly aligned, distractions vanished, and his analytical mind took over. He looked around the chamber not as a playground now—but as a blank canvas.
"Begin phase one: Lab renovation."
He hovered upward slightly, clipboard in hand, and used his telekinesis to summon nearby pens and tools. As he surveyed the chamber, he began sketching—precise angles, ventilation systems, equipment locations, electrical and plumbing blueprints, even biometric locks.
He didn't waste a second. A few minutes later, he had an architectural plan that would make SHIELD's R&D jealous:
Three primary wings: bio-tech research, weapon and utility development, and alien physiology.
Integrated AI systems and encrypted security.
Multi-environment testing zones including aquatic, vacuum, high-gravity, and virtual-reality modules.
After finalizing every last note, he transformed back to human form.
A wave of dizziness hit him briefly—the backlash of going from Galvan-level intellect to human cognition. He rubbed his temple.
"Yep. Still not a fan of the downgrade," he muttered.
Shaking it off, Alex ascended from the basement through the elevator. As he reached the main floor, the waiting butler—Edgar Thorne—stood at attention, his composed expression as crisp as ever.
"Master Alex," Edgar greeted with a nod, his voice deep and even.
Alex handed him the clipboard and a thick envelope of specs.
"These are my renovation plans for the underground lab. Contact the best lab design firm in New York and hire them under an NDA. I've also included a list of equipment I want purchased within the week."
Edgar glanced through the materials quickly, then looked up. "Very thorough, sir. It shall be arranged immediately."
"Also, I want daily progress reports," Alex added. "And only trusted personnel—background check every single one of them. No one gets in without your clearance or mine."
"Understood. And... might I say, sir," Edgar said with a faint upward curve of his lips, "it's good to have your energy back."
Alex gave him a casual salute and a smirk. "Feels good to be back."
He turned and walked off, mind buzzing with possibilities. The future was finally in his hands—burning, sparkling, shifting, racing.
And this was just the beginning.
Alex leaned back in the leather chair of his room, fingers steepled under his chin, a thoughtful look etched across his face.
> "Now that I've tested enough of my powers, it's time to understand this world properly…"
He turned toward the sleek computer on his desk and booted it up. The screen lit up with a soft glow, casting shadows across his room as he opened a browser and began his research.
"I already know the Fantastic Four and Avengers have been publicly active for years... but if Laura exists in this world, then the X-Men must be working from the shadows."
His fingers flew across the keyboard as he searched for any mention of mutant activity—hidden articles, obscure forums, unverified footage. It was all fragmented and vague, just as he expected. Still, it confirmed something: the X-Men existed, just not in the light.
He shifted topics, eyes narrowing.
"Let's check on the street-level guys…"
He found scattered news clippings and social media clips.
Daredevil had been active for 5 years, feared and admired as the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.
Luke Cage, Jessica Jones, and Iron Fist had smaller but notable records.
Spider-Man had been active for 3 years and had already faced off against the Sinister Six.
Alex stared at the familiar red-and-blue costume in one of the videos, a small fond smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
> "Peter... you're still out here, throwing yourself into danger without proper support. Idiot. You haven't changed."
He leaned back in the chair, watching a short clip of Spider-Man swinging across Midtown. Peter had grown—his movements were sharper, faster—but still so painfully reckless.
His eyes narrowed again as he shifted to larger events.
> "Let's go back further… Avengers, origin year... 1994."
There were old video footages, grainy with age but still intense.
> "Loki came to Earth, disguised as a human, and orchestrated an attack using Frost Giants. He manipulated them into believing that Thor had killed their king—whom Loki had secretly imprisoned."
Alex's eyes scanned every detail.
It was during that attack when Thor, then living on Earth under the identity Dr. Donald Blake, recovered his powers. When Iron Man intervened to stop a rampaging Hulk—whom Loki had provoked into fighting Thor—the heroes banded together. Eventually, Wasp, Ant-Man, and the newly awakened Thor defeated Loki by revealing the truth to the Frost Giants and rescuing their king.
And from that event… the Avengers were born.
> "One year later… Captain America was found frozen beneath Antarctic ice."
He moved on to the Fantastic Four.
> "Active since 1991, after they encountered the Cosmic Storm during a solar research mission. And that storm... changed everything."
He paused on a photo of Reed Richards, eyes lingering briefly on Sue Storm.
A name came up next—Stephen Strange.
> "Strange had his accident in 1989. Went silent soon after. Either dead, retired, or more likely... already became Sorcerer Supreme."
Alex exhaled slowly, processing the sea of information.
> "That's all I can get from the surface web... I need better intel if I want to survive—and thrive—in this world."
He leaned back, thinking.
> "I need an AI. Something that can gather information, monitor activity, cross-reference files beyond public access. A silent network of eyes and ears. And I still need to find those bastards who took Laura."
But those projects would have to wait until the lab renovation was complete.
He stood up, stretching slightly, muscles relaxing from hours of stillness. A new thought entered his mind.
> "I should visit Peter. He's younger than Aria, and he's been alone far too long."
His eyes softened. Richard Parker had been his father's closest friend—had helped build Ryven Industries from the ground up. When both Richard and Maria Parker died in the same tragic plane crash that took his own father—Gabriel Ryven—Peter had lost everything.
And yet… so had Alex.
Since then, Peter had become family—a younger brother in all but blood. His mother, Aria, and even Aunt May had done their best to raise Peter together.
> "And now he's out there risking his life every night, acting like it's his responsibility alone…"
A knock interrupted his thoughts.
He turned toward the door. "Come in."
The door opened, revealing Edgar Thorne, upright as always, a silver tray in hand.
"Master Alex," Edgar said in that always-polite tone, "Dinner is ready. And might I remind you that the lunch I prepared for you remains untouched?"
Alex blinked, his stomach reminding him of its absence. "Ah… right. Sorry, Edgar. Got caught up."
Edgar sighed lightly, clearly unimpressed but too professional to scold. "Please join the family. They've been waiting."
Alex nodded. "Coming."
---
Downstairs, the dining room was warmly lit. His mother and Aria were already seated, the table full of deliciously aromatic dishes.
"You finally decided to show up," Aria teased, scooping some rice onto her plate.
"I was saving the best entrance for last," Alex smirked as he took his seat.
His mother gave him a gentle look. "You're working yourself too hard again, aren't you?"
Alex met her eyes. "Just making up for lost time."
After the quiet clinking of utensils and soft conversation, he excused himself.
---
Later that night, after a warm shower and change into fresh clothes, Alex finally collapsed into his bed. The weight of the day tugged him into deep sleep.
---
Then… the world changed.
He opened his eyes slowly—not to the dark ceiling of his room, but to a sunlit field.
Lush green grass surrounded him. Trees swayed gently in the breeze, sunlight filtering through the canopy above. Birds chirped in the distance. A sense of peace should have washed over him…
But he felt off.
"Where the hell…?"
He blinked. His head rested on someone's lap. A soft, feminine hand brushed his hair.
"You're awake," a warm, melodic voice said.
He jerked upright, nearly stumbling as he stood up, his instincts kicking in. His body shifted into a loose defensive stance as his eyes locked onto the woman in front of him.
She was beautiful—almost otherworldly. Long dark hair framed a gentle face with glowing eyes that seemed to shimmer like stardust. She looked serene, calm… and far too familiar.
His heart raced.
"Who are you?... Where am I?" he asked sharply, scanning the field.
The woman simply smiled. "You're safe. Don't worry."
The trees rustled faintly behind her as the breeze carried her voice forward.
Alex's breathing slowed, but his confusion didn't fade.
Something was happening.
And this was only the beginning.