Chapter Four: The Weight of a New World

"Alright, Marshall, it's decision time!" Rob's voice boomed like a game show host announcing a grand prize. Before Marshall could reply, the void around him burst into chaos. Dozens of glowing orbs shot out in every direction, spinning and darting around him like over-caffeinated fireflies.

Marshall yelped, stumbling backward and throwing up his arms. "What the hell, man?! Are you trying to kill me again?"

Rob hovered a few feet away, lounging on what looked like an invisible recliner, one leg crossed over the other. He smirked, clearly enjoying himself. "Relax, kid. You're already dead. Worst-case scenario, you end up even more dead. Best case? You make some solid choices and get a cool new life."

Marshall glared up at him. "Yeah, because nothing says 'solid choices' like being assaulted by a cosmic light show."

Rob waved dismissively, flicking one of the orbs with his finger. "These, my dear Marshall, are your options. Your chance to pick three powers and get started on a brand-new, slightly more exciting existence."

Marshall eyed the swirling orbs warily. "And let me guess: there's a catch."

"Of course, there's a catch," Rob said with a grin. "What fun would it be if I handed you the keys to the multiverse with no strings attached? No, no, no. This is a journey, not a cheat code. You'll grow into your powers, learn through experience, and—most importantly—keep me entertained."

Marshall sighed, rubbing his temples. "Fantastic. A god with a reality TV fetish. Just what I needed."

Rob chuckled. "You're gonna be a fun one. Now quit stalling and start picking. The MCU isn't going to wait forever."

Marshall scanned the orbs, their faint hum filling the void like a chorus of tiny, otherworldly whispers. He reached for a golden one glowing faintly in front of him. The moment his fingers brushed its surface, a voice echoed in his mind: Super Intelligence. The power to understand, create, and outthink even the most complex systems.

"This one," he said firmly. "Super intelligence. If I'm going into a world where people are casually building killer robots and rewriting reality, I need to keep up."

Rob tilted his head, his grin widening. "Ambitious. But you know I'm not just going to let you wake up with Tony Stark's brain, right?"

Marshall crossed his arms, bracing himself. "Alright, hit me with the fine print. What's the catch?"

"You'll start off with peak human intelligence," Rob explained, his tone dripping with amusement. "Think Einstein, Hawking, Shuri—genius-level humans. That's your baseline. From there, your intelligence will grow as you learn and experience more. Eventually, you'll surpass human limitations entirely."

Marshall considered this, then nodded. "Okay, I can work with that. Starting off too smart would probably make my head explode anyway."

"Smart and self-aware," Rob said, snapping his fingers. The golden orb dissolved into Marshall's chest, sending a wave of warmth and clarity through him.

Marshall blinked, his thoughts suddenly sharper, clearer. "Whoa. I think I just figured out how to fix the economy and invent a faster way to microwave burritos."

"Baby steps," Rob said with a smirk. "Let's not rewrite capitalism just yet."

Marshall's eyes landed on a deep green orb, its steady pulse almost hypnotic. "Alright, next up: regeneration. Immortality. That's a no-brainer."

Rob floated closer, his grin turning mischievous. "Good call. But you know me—I like to keep things interesting."

Marshall groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright, let's hear it. What's the catch?"

"You'll heal like Wolverine at first," Rob explained. "Scrapes, cuts, bullet wounds—those'll heal faster than any human could manage. But as you age, your regeneration will grow stronger, faster. By the time you hit your peak age—let's say 25—you'll have full-on Deadpool levels of healing. Lose a limb? Grows back. Blown to bits? You'll pull yourself back together like Majin Buu or Cell."

Marshall raised an eyebrow. "So, what you're saying is I'm the MCU's most indestructible piñata."

"Pretty much," Rob said with a shrug. "But remember, you'll still feel everything. Pain, explosions, disintegrations—it'll hurt like hell, even if you heal from it."

"Great," Marshall muttered. "So, I'm a walking punching bag with a delayed warranty. Love that for me."

Rob snapped his fingers, and the green orb floated toward Marshall, dissolving into his chest. A cold, tingling sensation washed over him, followed by a surge of energy.

"Congratulations," Rob said, grinning. "You're officially harder to kill. But not impossible. Yet."

Marshall sighed. "Can't wait to test this out by tripping over a rock."

His gaze drifted toward a multicolored orb, swirling like a miniature galaxy. The moment he saw it, his face lit up. "Is that… the Omnitrix?"

Rob's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with delight. "Good eye. That's a big one, kid. Are you sure you can handle it?"

"Hell yeah," Marshall said, excitement bubbling over. "It's versatile, it's powerful, and let's face it—nothing says 'badass' like turning into an alien on command."

Rob clapped his hands, clearly delighted. "Bold choice. But you know me—I've got to keep it fair."

Marshall crossed his arms, his voice tinged with mock annoyance. "Alright, lay it on me. What's the stipulation this time?"

"You'll get the Omnitrix," Rob said, "but no master control. Not right away, anyway. You'll have to unlock features as you go—trial and error. And don't expect access to the heavy hitters like Alien X or Atomix until you've proven you're ready."

Marshall tilted his head. "So, what you're saying is I could end up as a fire-breathing dragon or a sentient puddle of goo."

"Exactly," Rob replied, laughing. "Keeps things exciting, doesn't it?"

Marshall sighed, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Fine. Deal. Let's do this."

With a snap of Rob's fingers, the multicolored orb condensed into a sleek, high-tech watch that materialized on Marshall's wrist. The green hourglass symbol glowed faintly.

Marshall held up his arm, admiring the Omnitrix. "Okay, not gonna lie—this is officially the coolest thing I've ever owned."

Rob floated closer, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Well, Marshall, you've got your setup: peak human intelligence, growing regeneration, and the Omnitrix. A solid starter pack. Let's see how long you last."

Marshall crossed his arms. "Gee, thanks for the confidence boost."

"Anytime," Rob said, snapping his fingers. The void began to ripple and shimmer, pulling Marshall into a swirling vortex of light and sound.

"Any last advice?" Marshall shouted as the vortex swallowed him.

"Yeah," Rob called back, his voice laced with amusement. "Try not to piss off Thor. He's very attached to his hammer."

Marshall laughed as the vortex pulled him away. "See you on the other side, Rob."

When Marshall's eyes fluttered open, the first thing he noticed was the ceiling—or rather, the lack of one. Above him, a mobile spun lazily, decorated with tiny stars and moons that glowed faintly in the dim light. He blinked, trying to move, only to realize his arms felt… tiny.

"Oh no," he muttered, his voice coming out high-pitched and squeaky. "No, no, no."

He craned his neck, glancing down at himself. Chubby little hands. A soft onesie with a cartoon rocket ship on the front. He was in a crib.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Marshall groaned. "I'm a freakin' baby."

Somewhere in the distance, he heard the faint cooing of a woman's voice. Footsteps approached, and a warm hand gently lifted him from the crib.

"Well," Marshall muttered, staring at the unfamiliar face of his new mother. "This is gonna be interesting."

End of Chapter Four