(Alex pov):
My name is Alex.
I'm a orphaned twenty-five years old man of Indian origin living in usa . Unemployed. A shut-in.
No parents. No relatives. No friends. Just me, locked away in a small apartment, living day to day. My world has shrunk to the size of four walls, with meals spaced out like checkpoints and movie binges on my phone filling the endless hours in between.
Life was going nowhere, until it suddenly wasn't.
I had bought a lottery ticket on impulse. Honestly, I'd almost forgotten about it—until the results popped up. And there it was. Three million usd. Mine. Just like that.
Most people would've celebrated, maybe called family, maybe gone out drinking with friends. I had no one to call. No one to celebrate with. So, I did what I always do—I ordered food, shut the curtains, and curled up with my iPhone, watching movies until my eyes burned.
That's when it happened.
No storm. No warning. Just a flash.
CRACK!
Lightning burst through the window, straight into me. My whole body convulsed, fire rushing through my veins. I should've died. I was sure I died. But when I opened my eyes, I wasn't the same.
My body wasn't flesh anymore. Not exactly. It felt… lighter. My skin glowed faintly, patterns of light running underneath like circuits. When I touched my arm, it didn't feel human. It felt digital.
And then my eyes fell on my iPhone, screen still glowing. Something inside me just clicked.
I knew. Instinctively. I could enter it. The movie playing wasn't just a movie anymore—it was a doorway. Not because I felt some pull, not because it dragged me. No. I just knew. Like a new sense had awakened inside me, telling me: If you want to, you can step in.
I stared at the screen. A superhero world. Explosions, powers, battles I had only ever watched from the outside.
Now? I could walk right in.
When the lightning hit me, I should've died. But instead, I woke up… different.
My body wasn't human anymore. Not exactly. It was light. Lines of glowing code ran under my skin like living circuits. My reflection on the black screen of my iPhone didn't show flesh and blood. It showed data.
Yet I knew—this wasn't all I was.
Deep inside me, I felt it. An intangible presence, like a second heartbeat that wasn't bound to flesh. My Core.
It wasn't something separate. It was me. The source of everything I had become. The Core wasn't just energy—it was a system, a will, a reality engine that existed beyond what any world could limit.
And from the moment I felt it, I understood.
I could download anything—powers, knowledge, even entire systems—from anyone or anything in the worlds I entered.
I could fuse powers together, extract abilities, and synthesize new ones from old fragments.
If I wanted, I could rewrite a world's logic itself, deceiving it into believing I was its chosen protagonist… only stronger, superior.
I could carry items back, making fiction into reality.
I could even devour artifacts, weapons, or concepts themselves, and my Core would strip them into raw possibilities, turning them into my strength.
And my existence came with safeguards. I couldn't be copied, sealed, dismantled, or weakened. I was absolute.
Most shocking of all—I could freely shift between forms.
If I wanted flesh, I could be human again.
If I wanted to be intangible, I could become pure data or spiritual essence.
I was no longer bound to a single state of being.
But instead of panic, a different feeling rushed through me.
The thrill of adventure.
It was like the universe had opened its gates and whispered, "Go on. Claim it."
Still, I didn't let excitement cloud me. Running around aimlessly with power would be stupid.
No. I had to think. Plan. Experiment.
I looked down at the iPhone still glowing in my hand, the movie playing like nothing had happened. To anyone else, it was just a screen. But I knew—it was more. It was a doorway. A test.
My lips curled into a smirk.
"Alright then. Let's see what I can do."