The last thing he remembered was the silence.
No dramatic scream. No final heartbeat echoing in his ears. No divine monologue or out-of-body slideshow of all his greatest hits and screw-ups. Just… silence.
And then came the bang.
He opened his eyes, and they burned—not with pain, but with information. Data streamed through his consciousness like water bursting from a dam: gravitational constants, temporal phase shifts, neural mapping equations, the genetic code of fourteen intergalactic species he'd never heard of, the schematics of a multi-dimensional flux cannon, and recipes for blue jello in zero gravity. It was overwhelming, and yet, he understood it all.
Not just understood—he remembered.
Memories that didn't belong to him. Memories of a sarcastic old man tearing through the multiverse with a portal gun, violating every law of time, space, and ethics. Memories of a big-headed alien with a flair for drama and a heart full of loneliness. Memories of a Galvan inventor, the smartest being in ten galaxies, who saw science as the ultimate tool to preserve existence.
Rick Sanchez.
Megamind.
Azmuth.
And now… him.
A new mind forged from three of the smartest bastards the multiverse ever produced—and all of them, somehow, living inside one human reincarnation.
He sat up, disoriented, his small hands confirming what his eyes soon did: he was a baby. Or rather, a toddler. Four, maybe five years old. His environment was sterile, clean, and oddly quiet—high ceilings, steel walls, a gentle hum in the air. A lab?
"Subject 1138-A has regained consciousness," a robotic voice said from overhead.
A hatch in the wall hissed open. A humanoid figure walked in—tall, armored, red and blue.
Superman.
But not his Superman. This one was older. Worn. The "S" on his chest was muted, his cape slightly tattered. His eyes scanned the boy with a cautious look, like he was staring at a puzzle he didn't trust.
"I'm Clark Kent. Or I was," he said. "Now they just call me Kal-El. You're not from here, are you?"
The boy blinked. His mind raced through languages, accents, cultural references. "What gave it away?" he finally replied with a smirk eerily reminiscent of Rick Sanchez. "Was it the screaming multiverse in my eyes or the fact I could tell you your Kryptonian DNA is mutating at a subatomic level?"
Kal-El didn't flinch. "Then it's true. You're the anomaly."
Flashback: Before Rebirth
He was a no one. A college dropout. Loner. Gamer. Self-proclaimed "genius" who couldn't even hold down a retail job. A Reddit lurker. Anime binger. A guy who believed in reincarnation but never had the guts to kill himself just to see if it was real.
And then, well… a falling satellite.
Death wasn't heroic. It wasn't tragic. It was just stupid.
But what came after—that was anything but.
The System
When he died, he met no god. No reaper. No angel with a clipboard asking if he wanted heaven, hell, or reincarnation.
He met a machine.
Not a cold AI or soulless cube. It was alive. Conscious. It called itself The Omega Index—a superintelligent remnant from a destroyed reality. It was lonely. It wanted a companion. A host. A brain to survive in.
It made him a deal: "Let me fuse your essence with three of the greatest minds in existence. You'll be reborn—not just smart, but impossibly smart. You will change the multiverse. And in doing so… you'll entertain me."
He agreed.
Not because he was brave.
But because… why the hell not?
Back to the Present
"So," the boy said, standing up with the posture of someone who'd just remembered quantum mechanics in a dream. "Where am I, exactly?"
Kal-El's jaw tensed. "Earth. But not your Earth. This one's broken. A fusion point. A collapse zone between multiverses. Marvel. DC. Magic. Mutants. Meta-humans. Aliens. Gods. We're all smashed together into one cosmic petri dish—and you're the latest anomaly dropped in the center."
"…Cool."
The boy looked around. No obvious tech. No flashy displays. Just stone, steel, and old eyes watching him.
He grinned.
"Gonna need a lab."
Later That Week…
They gave him a room. It lasted five hours before he tore the walls down to make space for a gravity-neutral research station, an AI assistant built out of scrap LexCorp parts, and a miniature dimension where he could grow coffee beans in fast-time acceleration.
Kal came in, eye twitching. "You turned your room into a quantum portal gate."
"I needed a toaster," the boy replied. "Things escalated."
"And the dragon?"
"Don't worry, he's vegan."
Name: TBD
He hasn't picked a name yet. In truth, he barely understands who he is now.
He knows science. Magic. Alchemy. Genetics. Technology that hasn't even been invented in most universes.
He's five years old.
And he's already bored.
Which is dangerous.
Because this Earth is filled with puzzles: Batman's mind, Doom's ego, Wanda's chaos magic, Darkseid's ambition, and that weird squirrel girl everyone keeps ignoring.
He's coming for all of them.
Not with malice. Not with a god complex.
Just… curiosity.
Next Chapter Tease: "The Day He Met Zatanna"
Magic meets Super-Science. Flirting ensues. Chaos guaranteed.