"I'm not afraid of you!" The words were a ragged shout, torn from Riven's throat. He was just a boy, held captive by monsters in human skin, but the soul within this small body was older, and it had seen worse than this. In this moment, there was no fear, only a white-hot, burning defiance.
As if in answer to his resolve, the Digivice on his wrist exploded with light.
It wasn't just a flash this time. It was a silent, magnificent detonation of pure white energy. The light poured from the small device in a torrent, swallowing everything. It washed over the terrified agents, over the ancient trees, over the very soil of the island. In an instant, the entire landmass of Ohara was bathed in an impossible, ethereal glow.
And in the silent, luminous heart of it all, a voice spoke. Not to Riven's ears, but directly into his mind. It was a voice without gender or tone, a voice like the turning of cosmic gears.
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The world froze. The light, the agents, the wind in the trees—everything stopped, locked in a single, silent moment. The vibrant colors of the island bled away, leaving behind a perfect, grayscale photograph of reality. The agent's sneer was a frozen mask of contempt. The men holding Riven were living statues. Only he remained in color, a single point of life in a dead world. He tried to move, to struggle, but his body was as immobile as the rest of creation. Only his thoughts, and his voice, were his own.
This… this is it? My golden ticket? Riven's mind reeled. The Apex Transformation System? It sounds absurdly overpowered. I wonder… what can it do?
The voice spoke again, its command resonating through his consciousness with the force of a mandate.
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Riven blinked. A tutorial. A forced, unskippable tutorial, just like in the video games from his past life. The world was paused, waiting for him to follow a single, ridiculous instruction.
Are you kidding me? "Activate Super Transformation Form!"? A wave of secondhand embarrassment washed over him. If I remember right, that's the transformation catchphrase from that old kids' show, B-Robo Kabutack. How incredibly lame.
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There was no choice. The crisis was real, the threat was frozen just inches away, and this was the only path forward. Heaving a mental sigh that carried the weight of all the indignity in the universe, Riven steeled himself. He met the frozen, hateful eyes of the agent before him, took a deep breath, and bellowed the words into the silent world.
"ACTIVATE SUPER TRANSFORMATION FORM!"
The effect was instantaneous. Five brilliant streamers of light, each a different color, erupted from the Digivice. They shot out, wrapping around his head, his arms, and his legs, cocooning him in a web of raw power. A wave of energy, potent and overwhelming, surged through him.
His body changed. The small, slender frame of an eight-year-old boy elongated, expanded, and solidified. He shot upward, his bones lengthening, his muscles coiling and swelling with power. His pale, soft skin tanned and hardened into that of a man in his physical prime. Beneath the light, a physique worthy of a Greek god was being forged, a perfect specimen of human potential.
The light pulsed, and his simple clothes dissolved, their molecules breaking apart and re-forming into something new. A suit of blue combat armor, flexible and tough as dragon scale, covered his torso. A single, pure white star materialized over his chest. A blue cowl, emblazoned with a bold, white "A," formed over his head, leaving his jaw, mouth, and eyes exposed.
But these were not the most important changes.
As the light receded, something new and solid rested on his left forearm. It was a shield. A perfectly round, disc-shaped shield. In its center was a white, five-pointed star, surrounded by concentric circles of defiant red, stark white, and resolute blue.
Riven knew that shield. He knew the righteous blue, the truthful white, the courageous red. He knew the man who carried it.
No way… he thought, his mind struggling to process the impossible. This is Captain America's shield. Forged from a nigh-indestructible Vibranium alloy. Does that mean… I've become Captain America?
He flexed his hand, the unfamiliar strength thrumming through his arm. He looked down at his body, now standing well over six feet tall. The height, the weight, the sheer presence—it was all there, a perfect echo of the hero he'd only ever seen in movies. The only difference was the face. Beneath the iconic cowl, it was still his own.
As he stared at his reflection in the shield's polished surface, the System's voice returned one last time, delivering its final, world-altering revelation.
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The grayscale world snapped back into vibrant color. Time resumed its merciless march.