Reborn in Marvel: Guardian of the Multiverse

A searing pain shot through my chest, dragging me back to consciousness. Gasping for air, I opened my eyes and was greeted by a dim, wooden ceiling. The scent of smoke and something metallic lingered in the air. Groaning, I tried to push myself up, only to realize my body felt alien—familiar, yet undeniably different.

The last thing I remembered was the screech of brakes, the blinding headlights of a truck, and the sickening crunch of metal. Yet here I was, alive. Or so I thought.

"Where… am I?" I muttered, my voice hoarse and strained.

"You're awake," said a voice, thick with a German accent. I turned my head toward the source—a middle-aged man with wire-rimmed glasses and a gentle demeanor. "You're lucky to be alive. The bomb blast outside didn't reach this building."

Bomb blast? My heart sank as realization crept in. The man introduced himself as Dr. Abraham Erskine, and my mind reeled. It couldn't be… but it was. His name, his accent—it all fit. I wasn't just alive; I was in the Marvel universe, specifically during World War II.

Panic clawed at my throat as I processed the truth. This was the timeline where Captain America was born, where the super-soldier serum was created. But why was I here? And how?

Erskine's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. "You were unconscious for a few hours. Rest. We'll find transport for you in the morning."

I nodded absentmindedly, trying to hide my disbelief. I needed time to think, but sleep was the last thing on my mind.

---

The night passed slowly. Lying on the makeshift bed, I stared at the flickering lantern. Thoughts spiraled in my head. My hands trembled as I flexed them, trying to understand if this was real. That's when I noticed something unusual. My reflexes were sharper. I tested it by catching a falling glass of water mid-air without even realizing it.

"What the hell?" I whispered, staring at the glass in my hand. My body felt stronger, lighter. It wasn't just the world that had changed—something had changed in me, too.

Experimenting further, I focused on my palm, and a faint flicker of energy sparked to life. It wasn't flashy, but it was real. My heart raced with equal parts fear and excitement.

---

Morning came, and with it, a grim determination. If I was stuck here, I needed a plan. Erskine was gone before I woke, leaving a note about transport arriving later. I used the time to gather information.

The town was alive with chaos—military vehicles rumbled down dirt roads, and the air buzzed with tension. I overheard locals whispering about Hydra's growing influence and the mysterious experiments taking place.

It was a stark reminder of where I was. Hydra wasn't just a fictional villain anymore; they were a very real, very dangerous threat.

---

By midday, I hitched a ride with a convoy heading toward a military base. The landscape blurred past, but my mind remained focused. I needed to find Steve Rogers. If I was right, this was just before he transformed into Captain America.

The base was a hive of activity—soldiers marched in perfect unison, and vehicles roared across dirt tracks. I tried to stay inconspicuous, but my unease grew.

Then I saw him.

Steve Rogers stood in a line of recruits, looking scrawny and out of place. His determination was palpable, even from a distance. Watching him felt surreal—this was the man who would become one of the greatest heroes in history.

---

That evening, everything changed.

I was near the lab where Steve Rogers was undergoing the super-soldier procedure. Sneaking closer, I watched through a small gap. Erskine was there, along with Howard Stark and Peggy Carter. The sight was mesmerizing—this wasn't just history; it was legend unfolding before my eyes.

Steve stepped into the machine, and the transformation began. Bright lights and loud machinery filled the room as the serum took effect. When it was over, Steve emerged—a towering figure, radiating strength and confidence.

The celebration was short-lived. A Hydra spy, planted among the ranks, suddenly pulled out a gun and shot Erskine.

Time seemed to slow as chaos erupted. Without thinking, I acted. My enhanced reflexes kicked in, allowing me to dodge through the crowd and tackle the spy before he could flee.

"Who the hell are you?" Steve demanded, looking at me with suspicion.

"Just someone trying to help," I replied, my heart racing.

With Steve's help, we subdued the Hydra agent. Before he could bite down on a cyanide capsule, I slammed my palm against his jaw, sending him unconscious.

Peggy Carter arrived seconds later, securing the spy. She shot me a curious glance but said nothing.

---

That night, as I sat alone, replaying the events in my mind, a sense of purpose began to take shape. This wasn't just a story to me anymore—it was my reality. And I couldn't stand by and let it play out without trying to make a difference.

Steve's transformation marked the beginning of something greater, but it also signaled the rise of Hydra's darkest schemes. If I could help him, even in small ways, maybe I could tilt the balance.

I didn't know why I was here or how long I'd stay, but one thing was clear: I wasn't going to waste this second chance.

For better or worse, I was a part of this world now. And I was determined to leave my mark on it.