Marvel: The Foundation

A good book is one that you forget time while reading. It is hard to forget and tough to pull yourself away from. A really good book is one that can impact your life, something that you will never forget again.

An even better book is one which you can read time and time again, and experience all the things that makes a good book good every time you read it.

A Hero is Born is without a doubt a book a book like that, one that is super immersive, one that you can spent hours reading. Mostly because you would be sleeping, but inside the dreams you would have, days, weeks, years could pass by.

This was why this book was dangerous, because it was addictive, why did many people turn to drugs and alcohol? Because they wanted to escape reality, and this book truly offered that in ways nothing else did.

Even someone like Justin Hammer, a billionaire was finding himself struggling after dreaming just once.

Over the next few days, Justin tried to go about his normal routine, but it was harder than he anticipated. He found himself drifting off during meetings, his mind replaying scenes from the adventure—facing the dragon, the cheers of the villagers, the warm smile of the princess. His secretary had to repeat herself several times before he realized she was asking him a question.

"Mr. Hammer, are you alright?" she asked, a note of concern in her voice.

Justin blinked, snapping back to reality. He forced a smile, waving her concern away. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just… didn't sleep well, that's all."

She nodded, but her eyes lingered on him, doubt clearly etched across her face. As she left his office, Justin leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment. It was almost as if he could hear the echo of the robed figure's voice, calling him back to the adventure. It was haunting him, an itch that he couldn't scratch—a pull that he couldn't ignore.

He tried to focus on his work, but every paper, every report felt meaningless. The thrill he had experienced, the sense of purpose—it made everything he did now seem so small, so insignificant. He had been a hero, someone who mattered. Here, in this world, he was just… Justin Hammer, always one step behind Tony Stark.

By the third day, he couldn't take it anymore. Late at night, when the office was empty and the city beyond his windows was quiet, Justin returned to the book. He stared at it for a long moment, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew it was dangerous. He knew he was playing with fire. But he needed to feel it again—he needed to be the hero, even if it was only for a little while.

Slowly, almost reverently, he opened the book. The words on the page seemed to shimmer, shifting and twisting, drawing him in once more. Justin took a deep breath, letting the familiar drowsiness wash over him, and as his eyes closed, a smile played at the corners of his lips.

This time, he was ready.

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 Justin Hammer felt the familiar, almost magnetic pull as the words on the page shifted and blurred. He closed his eyes, letting the sensation wash over him, a mix of yearning and apprehension bubbling up within. When he opened them again, the world around him had changed—vivid colors, warm sunlight, and the distant rustle of leaves filled his senses.

He was back.

The first thing he noticed was that he wasn't standing in the village square anymore. There were no cheers, no princess or villagers celebrating him, no old elder bestowing titles. Instead, he found himself standing at the edge of a dense forest, the towering trees rising like ancient guardians all around.

He blinked, disoriented, his heart sinking with a pang of disappointment. The village was gone. The people who had cheered for him, who had called him their hero—they were gone too.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. It all felt so... empty. He was back in armor, a sword strapped to his side, the same weight of adventure on his shoulders, but it wasn't the same. Not yet. There was no warmth here, no sense of belonging—just the unfamiliar, the unknown. He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers, as if to remind himself that he was still here. The hero of the last adventure, yes, but with no one to celebrate it.

"Alright," he muttered to himself, trying to shake the sense of loss. "Let's see what kind of mess I've gotten into this time." His voice echoed slightly in the stillness of the forest, and he swallowed down the pang of loneliness. There was no cheering crowd here, no princess to smile at him—just silence, and the rustling of the leaves.

He started to walk, his boots crunching softly on the undergrowth, his eyes scanning the surroundings. The forest was dense, sunlight breaking through the thick canopy in patches, casting long shadows on the forest floor.

He didn't know where he was or what lay ahead, but he had no choice but to move forward. It was strange—being here without a guide, without someone telling him what to do or where to go. He was on his own.

The silence weighed on him, the absence of the village filling him with a sense of hollowness. He missed Tob's eager grin, the warmth of the villagers' smiles, the way they had looked at him with awe and gratitude. Here, he was just Justin again—just a man, lost in a strange world with no direction, no purpose.

He shook his head, trying to focus. He had been through this before, hadn't he? He had faced dangers, fought monsters, saved a village. This was just another adventure. He could do this. He had to. He pressed on, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of movement ahead—a flicker of something, a glint of metal in the sunlight.

He quickened his pace, his heart pounding. Maybe it was a sign, a clue, something that could give him a direction. As he drew closer, he realized it was a road—an old, winding path cutting through the forest, overgrown with weeds and moss. And on that path stood a cart, its wheels broken, its contents spilled across the ground.

A man knelt beside the cart, his back to Justin, struggling with one of the wheels. He was dressed in simple, tattered clothes, his shoulders slumped in frustration.

Justin paused for a moment, watching the man. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. This was it—a new beginning, a new chance to be the hero. He stepped forward, his armor clinking softly, and cleared his throat.

"Hey there," he called, his voice breaking the stillness. The man looked up, startled, his eyes widening as he took in Justin's appearance. "Need a hand?"

The man blinked, his eyes moving from Justin's face to the armor, then to the sword at his side. For a moment, he just stared, as if trying to comprehend what he was seeing. Then he nodded, a look of relief washing over his face.

"Thank the gods," the man said, standing up and brushing the dirt from his hands. "I've been stuck here for hours. The wheel broke, and I can't get it back on by myself."

Justin nodded, stepping closer to the cart. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to be pretty good at fixing things," he said with a smile, though his heart wasn't quite in it. He knelt beside the cart, examining the broken wheel.

He might not be a Tony Stark, but he had still made a major company on his own, and while not every weapon worked as flawlessly as Starks, they were a lot cheaper! And really, compared to that a small Wheel was easy to fix, even if he found the tools he had rather lacking.

The man watched as Justin worked, his eyes still wide with awe. "You're a knight, aren't you?" he asked, his voice filled with curiosity. "I've never seen a knight out here before."

Justin hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, something like that," he said, his voice soft. He wasn't a knight, not really—not in the way the man thought—but he wanted to be. He wanted to be someone who mattered, someone who could make a difference.

As he worked, the man continued to talk, telling Justin about his journey, about the village he was traveling to. Justin listened, nodding, the man's voice slowly easing the sense of emptiness that had settled in his chest. He wasn't alone, not anymore. He had a purpose again, even if it was just helping a stranger fix a broken cart.

After a while, the wheel was back in place, and the man smiled, clapping Justin on the shoulder. "Thank you, sir knight," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. "If you're heading west, you're welcome to come with me. I could use the company, and the road can be dangerous."

Justin looked down the road, the forest stretching endlessly before them. He took a deep breath, the sense of loss still lingering, but a spark of hope beginning to take its place. He had a new path now—a new adventure. And maybe, just maybe, he could be the hero again.

"Alright," Justin said, his smile finally reaching his eyes. "Lead the way."