Marvel: Incursio

Finally, it was Friday and I couldn't have been more relieved. The year was 2005---early in the year, to be exact---and still three years away from when everything would start to change. Three years until the world would get its first real glimpse of superheroes, the Avengers, and all the mayhem that came with them. That gave me time or at least that's what I kept telling myself. But the truth was, I had no idea what I was supposed to do when the plot kicked in.

I would turn sixteen later this year. By then, most people had a plan for their life—college, work, something. But me? Nope, I had no plan. In a world where gods wielded hammers and geniuses built suits of armor, I was just... me. Ordinary. No superpowers, no special abilities, nothing to make me stand out. Sure, I knew what was coming, but I didn't exactly have a blueprint for survival.

That thought stayed in the back of my mind. Because if the Marvel universe was real, that meant every threat, every villain I'd ever seen or read about was real too. And the most notorious of them all was still out there. The Mad Titan—Thanos. The guy who could wipe out half the universe with a snap of his fingers and live. it felt almost absurd. Like I was a character in a comic, just waiting for my moment to shine—or die trying.

But it wasn't just about Thanos. I mean, who knows if I'd even make it that far? New York seemed to have a disaster on its hands every other week. It was a miracle I made it home from school without a superhero showdown breaking out.

The nights were the worst. That's when my worries always seemed to bubble to the surface, refusing to be ignored. But lately, it wasn't just the worries keeping me up. There were… dreams. Or rather, nightmares. They had started a few weeks ago, and each one felt worse than the last.

In the dreams, there were these whispers. I couldn't make out the words—they were always muffled, distant. Sometimes they turned into strange sounds, like the rustling of paper or the scraping of metal. And then there was the darkness. It felt alive, closing in on me until I woke up, drenched in cold sweat, my heart racing as if I'd just escaped something terrifying.

I tried to brush it off at first. 'Just stress and sleep deprivation,' I told myself. Just my mind playing tricks on me because I was overthinking everything. But the more the dreams came, the harder it was to ignore them.

Harold noticed. "You've been looking tired lately," he mentioned one morning, his brow furrowed with concern while he poured me a cup of coffee. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, just a lot on my mind," I lied, forcing a smile. I didn't want to make him worried. How could I explain that I was losing sleep over nightmares that didn't make any sense? That the plot I knew was coming felt like a countdown, and I was just waiting for the bomb to drop?

But these nightmares weren't just random. I didn't remember much when I woke up, but the feeling of dread was hard to shake. 

As the night passed, I found myself waking up in cold sweat, yet again those same whispers echoing in my mind. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, sitting there for a moment as the early light filtered through the window. It cast a warm glow across my room, yet it did little to lift the pressure building up on my shoulders. I needed to get moving and clear my head.

I put on a hoodie and laced up my worn sneakers before stepping out into the morning air. The city felt different at this hour---quieter, more peaceful. I jogged towards the nearby park, the sound of my feet hitting the pavement calming my thoughts.

The park was just waking up, with a few early risers already out walking their dogs or doing stretches on the grass. I picked up my pace, letting the cool air fill my lungs, feeling each breath energize me. Running helped clear my mind of my worries. With every stride, the whispers faded a bit more, replaced by the sound of my heartbeat and the rustles of leaves in the gentle breeze.

As I reached the park's small loop, I found a bench and took a moment to catch my breath. I watched the sunrise. It was a reminder that no matter how chaotic things felt, the world kept going. I wasn't sure what the future held, but for now, I was just a kid.

As I sat there, I tried to push away thoughts of Thanos and the looming chaos that would soon unfold. Instead, I focused on the warmth of the sun, the laughter of a couple of kids playing nearby, the scent of fresh grass. It felt good to breathe, to remind myself that today was just another day.

But as I got up to continue jogging, the whispers crept back into my mind, nagging at the corners of my consciousness. I shook my head, pushing them away. I had my own life to live, and while the universe might be a time bomb, i wasnt going to let it bring me down.

With renewed determination, I picked up my pace again. After all, life in the Marvel universe was unpredictable, but that didn't mean I couldn't carve out my own path in the middle of it all.