Even now, Wilson had never come across a bolder statement than that one.
That phrase he'd learned as a kid had shaped his whole life.
But what Wilson didn't know was that this tough declaration came from Emerson's past life—something that didn't even exist in this world.
Emerson Joe, a mixed-race kid raised in the heart of America, had a dash of German heritage from his mom's side.
You could spot it in his sharp nose and pale skin.
As for why just a dash, well, his dad's side dominated the rest—giving him that classic all-American look with a twist.
That's about all Emerson knew of his background.
He unlocked memories from his previous life at age six, already stuck in an orphanage by then.
Any fuzzy recollections of his parents came from scattered fragments in his head; he'd never met them face-to-face.
From what he pieced together, his mom had left him a letter once.
But none of that fazed Emerson much, thanks to those past-life memories.
An adult's mindset was plenty to handle things on his own.
That's when he met Wilson. Back then, Wilson was hefty—not the solid muscle he sported now, but actual extra padding.
Unlike Emerson, who'd basically grown up in the system, Wilson got dumped there after his dad met a bad end and no one else could step up.
Fresh off the streets where his old man ran a crew, young Wilson was a real tough guy in the making.
With his size and raw power, he bossed around kids two or three years older without breaking a sweat.
Too bad his reign as king of the playground crashed and burned when he crossed paths with Emerson.
Emerson wasn't one to back down. Sure, he lacked Wilson's brute strength, but he'd trained in combat skills from his past life—enough to take down a bigger guy no problem.
Call it making up for raw power with smart technique!
Wilson didn't buy it at first, throwing challenge after challenge. Growing up rough had taught him to win by any means necessary.
But he was still just a kid—his sneaky tricks were obvious to Emerson's experienced eye and got shut down every time.
Their back-and-forth dragged on for a couple of months until Wilson, beaten time and again, finally threw in the towel.
From that day on, he became Emerson's loyal sidekick.
That dynamic stuck through their teens. Once they hit adulthood, though, they each chased their own ambitions.
Wilson had seen too much grit and grime growing up, and while Emerson's influence kept him from going full dark side, he still carried a burning drive.
He wanted to flip the script on the neighborhood that raised him.
Hell's Kitchen in Manhattan, New York—the underbelly of the Big Apple, where every shadow hid crime and chaos, far from the city's glitz.
Wilson knew it was a long shot, but watching his dad die right in front of him haunted his dreams and fueled his fire.
Emerson caught on to Wilson's goal early. He'd planned to jump in and help, but a curveball threw him off track.
Instead, he shared his family's old self-defense techniques with Wilson, holding nothing back.
After over a decade of sticking together like glue, Emerson knew Wilson's heart inside out.
To him, Wilson was the little brother he'd watched grow up—not by blood, but closer than most siblings.
As Wilson bulked up over the years, though, that "big brother" vibe started to flip.
Wilson eyed the top spot, and things only settled when they went their separate ways.
The split happened because Emerson's big break finally showed up.
As someone who'd either time-traveled or been reborn—he wasn't sure—he'd always figured he had some kind of edge.
Reality hit hard, though. He tried everything, but nada.
It left him crushed, feeling like an outsider drifting through life.
That's when Wilson, still the chubby kid back then, barged into his world.
You could say Wilson gave Emerson an outlet for his frustration, helping him click into this reality.
But just as Emerson moved on and things started looking up, his edge popped up out of nowhere.
It wasn't the high-tech gadget he'd imagined, or some wise mentor in his pocket.
It was a soul-bound contract—with Arceus, the creator of the entire Pokémon universe!
As the architect of that world, Arceus was tied to it in ways that couldn't be severed.
The Pokémon realm was gearing up for a massive upgrade, and Arceus had brainstormed plans with other legends.
The top pick? Merge quietly with a world that had already leveled up.
The Marvel Universe—that's what Arceus locked in on.
If you're fusing anyway, why settle for a single-shot universe when you could risk it for a multiverse payoff?
The chaotic, high-stakes Marvel setup caught Arceus's eye under those odds.
Compared to calmer multiverses, Marvel's constant crises meant less chance of getting flagged by the big shots running things.
It felt a bit like kicking someone when they're down, but these legends weren't bound by human morals—no guilt trip there.
As a guy from another life, Emerson got spotted by Arceus in the mix.
Arceus's original play was to puppeteer someone in Marvel to sneak in slow.
But stumbling on Emerson—someone who knew about Pokémon and had a soft spot for them—changed the game.
No better pick than that!
So Arceus ditched the control angle and went for partnership.
Puppets follow scripts; real people get creative and efficient.
At least, that's the story Arceus fed Emerson—the full truth was murkier.
Control was never the plan, but Arceus linked up anyway, sealing a soul contract without asking.
When the connection hit Emerson's soul, something wild happened—way beyond Arceus's expectations.
Deep in Emerson's core lurked a mystery artifact, wrapped in glowing energy that hid its origins.
This unknown thing hijacked the deal, forcing the contract through—with Arceus powerless to fight back.
Emerson stayed clueless, and Arceus kept mum to save face.
The artifact went dormant after, vanishing back into his soul's depths.
That twist forced Arceus to rethink the whole setup.
Whatever that thing was, it overpowered a world-creator like Arceus—beyond what any legend could fathom.
Can't beat it? Roll with it.
And just like that, the Marvel Invasion Plan kicked off!
Emerson, half in the dark, stepped up as lead operator—with real authority to boot!
He had questions, sure, but no way to dig deeper. Might as well go along.
Power-ups were his to keep, anyway—deal with the rest if it blew up.
For Emerson, this "gift" was mostly upside.
Ever since figuring out his surroundings, he'd drilled daily in his family's old fighting styles—just to stay safe.