HISD Chapter 1: About the Dream Where I Saw Marvel
Yi Meng drifted into sleep.
His consciousness was like a stone sinking into the depths of a lake without bottom, or as if it had passed through a celestial doorway, pulled endlessly downward.
That subtle sensation—hazy yet crystal clear.
Sure enough.
Yi Meng suddenly realized he was once again experiencing the same dream he had the night before, the night before that, and countless nights stretching into the past.
In that dream, he was a sword.
A long sword of unknown design, sealed away in a cramped space much like a storage bag.
As a sword—
Yi Meng could not move, could not speak. He could only feel darkness, silence, and the unbearably long passage of time.
All he could do in that dream was silently endure, sensing grains of time slip past the blade until he awoke.
Day after day, night after night, the cycle repeated!
That feeling was far worse than being imprisoned.
To have the same bizarre dream over and over again, remembering every detail even after waking—it was abnormal, exhausting, and eroded his spirit over time.
Yi Meng nearly couldn't take it anymore and considered going to see a psychologist.
But the strangest things came after.
Recently, changes had started to appear in his real body as well.
For example, his hair was gradually becoming hard as metal. Even his new scissors became dull when he tried to trim his bangs.
Or his fingernails, which had become razor sharp—accidentally leaving smooth cuts across his desk or anything else he touched.
It was almost like…
A sword.
Yes, unbelievable as it sounded, Yi Meng himself found it hard to accept—he was actually showing traits of the sword from his dreams. Hardness, sharpness, and more.
If he went to a doctor now, he might not just be locked away in a mental hospital. More likely, he would be taken as a lab rat and studied endlessly.
"This time, I have to uncover the mystery of the sword in my dream."
Yi Meng made up his mind.
In truth, across a thousand dreams, he had already tried many times.
But the problem was simple—he was a sword. He couldn't move or speak, locked away in a tiny, lightless space.
It was like logging into a new game, creating your character, and preparing to explore—only to get stuck at the beginner's village fountain.
That sort of thing… no thanks.
Yi Meng instinctively resisted falling asleep, trying to wake up.
But no matter how he struggled, the dream dragged him under with an inescapable force, like sleep paralysis.
Dreaming.
Falling.
Endlessly falling.
Until at last—he arrived.
But this time was different. A faint but undeniable glow appeared before his eyes, and a young girl's voice rang out:
"Saturday. How are black holes formed?"
This time the dream had light!
And a loli's voice, no less!
Yi Meng was overjoyed. Had a little girl just pulled him out?
Saturday… was that the name of his sword form?
And black holes? How was he supposed to know how they formed?
Yi Meng only vaguely knew what a black hole was. He'd never cared to study the details. Physics exams didn't ask that much. But now, faced with her question, a stream of knowledge surged into his mind as if electrified.
Without thinking, he answered: "A black hole forms when a massive star runs out of fuel for nuclear fusion and collapses under its own gravity…"
"A black hole is an object of extremely high density, with such strong gravity that its escape velocity exceeds the speed of light…"
Yi Meng froze. What was he even saying?
More importantly—
Both the girl's soft, childish voice and his own reply were in perfect English.
Sure, his grades in English had never been bad, but fluent scientific explanations full of technical terms? That was far beyond him.
Before he could process it, the girl asked again: "Saturday, where do souls go after death?"
Wait, what? That was a huge leap! From astrophysics to metaphysics?
She quickly pressed again, "Saturday, tell me… when people die, do they really turn into stars? Or maybe black holes?"
"You're so annoying."
Yi Meng's mind was already in chaos, and finally he snapped: "When people die, there's no such thing as a soul! Death is just death—you're left with a corpse, and everything returns to dust. Nothing remains!"
The girl fell silent.
Three seconds later, she burst out crying, the sound so loud and sudden that Yi Meng flinched.
He suddenly 'opened' his eyes, but instead of his shabby rented room or the dark, narrow storage of before, he found himself in a strange room.
It was a wooden bedroom, carefully decorated with dolls and trinkets, cozy and childlike.
A golden-haired, blue-eyed girl of about five years old was sniffling, her doll-like face buried in a sky-blue quilt as she tried to stifle her sobs.
Yi Meng was completely at a loss. He had no idea how to comfort a child.
Just then, the door opened.
A blonde woman in loose sleepwear hurried in, turned on the main light, and rushed to the bed. She sat down and gathered the little girl, quilt and all, into her arms. "Morgan, Mommy's here. Tell me, what happened?"
Yi Meng suddenly felt a pang of guilt.
The girl sniffled but didn't mention what had just happened. Instead, she whispered, "I miss Daddy."
The blonde woman froze, then sadness clouded her beautiful face.
She hugged Morgan even tighter, her eyes misting over as she softly comforted her: "You know, no matter where he is, he'll always love you. Just like you love him—three thousand times over."
Watching the mother and daughter embrace, Yi Meng suddenly felt an odd sense of familiarity.
As if he had seen this before…
His gaze shifted to the desk, where a family photo was displayed. In it stood the mother and daughter, along with a tall figure clad in full high-tech armor, chest glowing with a triangular arc reactor. The sleek golden-red design and cutting-edge detail could not be mistaken.
Iron Man.
Yi Meng recognized him instantly.
And of course—the daughter's name was Morgan.
Morgan Stark.
"I love you three thousand times"—her famous line from the movies.
As a longtime Marvel fan, Yi Meng was stunned. This time, his dream had taken him into Iron Man's family.
Even stranger—his perspective. He was seeing everything from the ceiling corner of the room, gazing down with a wide, fixed angle.
He had become… a surveillance camera?
The sensation was surreal. He couldn't feel a body, no touch or smell—only the camera's wide field of vision and the sounds fed through its receiver.
Even the faint hum of the circuits resonated in his mind, streams of digital data flowing seamlessly with his thoughts.
He had become a camera in his dream. Even more absurd than being a sword.
Yi Meng was speechless.
Wait—no.
He realized he could also sense other things: the room's temperature and humidity.
Temperature: 64.4°F, or 18°C. A bit cool, but optimal for human sleep.
Humidity: 65%.
It was November 2nd, nearly winter, and the level was also ideal for sleeping.
His thoughts were faster than ever. A single notion, and precise converted data appeared in his mind.
He discovered he could control the smart air conditioning. That was how he knew the room's stats.
Not only that.
Yi Meng focused.
The desk lamp flicked off, then back on. Neither mother nor daughter noticed, too caught in their grief.
Smart lights, smart headphones, smartphones, robot vacuums…
Yi Meng realized he could sense all of the smart electronics in the room. They were like extensions of himself, controllable with just a spark of intent.
Morgan Stark had called him "Saturday"?
Yi Meng finally caught up.
After Iron Man lost J.A.R.V.I.S., his second AI assistant had been called "Friday."
Friday… Saturday…
A spark jolted through Yi Meng's mind.
He wasn't a camera.
He was—
A super artificial intelligence.
TL/N: New fanfic! I think it's pretty good. Anyway, the ILY 3000 song is genuinely peak!
Also, check out my other fanfics:
One Piece: Tom Cat Is My First Summon!!!
Starting With Wonder Woman : Marvel DC Affection System
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