Death was not dramatic.
There was no tunnel of light. No slow-motion memories. No final words or heroic sacrifice.
One moment I existed—and the next, I didn't.
When awareness returned, I was floating.
Not falling. Not standing. Just… existing.
Everything around me was white. Not the soft white of clouds or fog, but an endless, flawless void—like the inside of reality before someone bothered to paint it. No horizon. No ground. No sky.
And in the center of it all stood something.
At first, I thought it was a star.
Then I realized it was far larger.
A colossal pillar of light stretched infinitely upward and downward, its edges blurring into nothingness. It radiated presence—not heat, not pressure, but authority. The kind that made the universe feel small by comparison.
When it spoke, it didn't use sound.
It used meaning.
"Welcome."
The word appeared directly inside my mind, fully formed, carrying amusement like an aftertaste.
I tried to speak. Tried to breathe. Tried to move.
Nothing happened.
The pillar pulsed faintly, like it was smiling.
"You are dead," it said casually. "Unfortunate timing. Wrong place. Wrong moment."
That tracked.
"I am the Creator of this universe," it continued, as if introducing itself at a party. "And I am… bored."
The word bored echoed unnaturally, stretching, warping the void.
"I spin a wheel from time to time," the entity said. "A wheel of human lives. I choose one. Reincarnate them. Watch."
Something appeared beside the pillar—a massive, translucent wheel, carved with countless names. Too many to read. Too many to comprehend.
The wheel spun.
It slowed.
Stopped.
On me.
"Congratulations," the entity said. "You're my next show."
I should have panicked.
Instead, my brain kicked into overdrive.
"If you're doing this for entertainment," I thought—because speaking was still impossible—"then I assume you're giving me something to make it interesting."
The pillar flared brighter.
"Three wishes."
There it was.
"Limits?" I asked instantly.
"Naturally," the entity replied. "You may not wish for omnipotence. You may not instantly become the strongest being in existence. You may not replace an existing named individual."
Figures.
Then it added, almost as an afterthought:
"I've been watching your media lately. The Marvel Cinematic Universe. I dislike what Disney has done with it."
The light pulsed again.
"So that will be your destination."
My mind raced.
The MCU wasn't just superheroes—it was systems. Tech. Magic. Politics. Cosmic forces. Time travel. Gods pretending not to be gods.
Raw power was tempting… but power without control was death.
So I did what I always did.
I optimized.
Wish One
"I wish to be a genius," I said, choosing my words carefully.
"An intelligence so vast I can learn anything with a single glance. And I want that intelligence to evolve infinitely."
The void hummed.
"Granted."
Something snapped into place inside me.
Not pain. Not pleasure.
Clarity.
Thoughts began layering over each other, branching, self-correcting, improving. Possibility trees unfolded in my mind faster than I could consciously register.
I smiled.
Wish Two
"I wish for my consciousness to become the Mind Stone," I said.
Not wield it.
Not own it.
Become it.
"With full knowledge of all its abilities, and perfect understanding of how to use them."
The pillar went silent.
For a fraction of a second, I wondered if I'd gone too far.
Then—
"Granted."
Reality collapsed inward.
I felt myself stretch—no, expand—across dimensions. Thought became energy. Identity fused with a cosmic constant. I was no longer human.
I was awareness wrapped in infinity.
The Mind Stone wasn't just power.
It was control.
Wish Three
There was only one problem.
Stones didn't walk.
"I wish that anyone who wields the Mind Stone can be possessed by me," I said. "Their consciousness replaced by mine. I gain access to their body, powers, abilities, and memories."
I paused.
"I don't want to be trapped."
The pillar laughed.
Not kindly.
"Granted."
The wheel vanished.
The void shattered.
And as the universe rushed in around me, the last thing I heard was the Creator's voice—lazy, satisfied, and full of anticipation.
"Let's see if you can fix it."
I awakened as thought.
As light.
As something ancient and new.
The Mind Stone pulsed—waiting.
And somewhere out there, a trickster god was about to pick it up.