Chapter 2: Fractured Bonds and a Cosmic Spark
Four years had passed since the world believed the Stark and Wayne legacies were dealt mortal blows. The autumn of 2003, when Thomas and Martha Wayne fell in a Gotham alley and Howard and Maria Stark perished in a fiery crash, left scars that rippled through New York-Gotham's glittering chaos. For Alex Stark-Wayne, now 14 in 2007, those scars shaped his family, his purpose, and the path he was only beginning to forge.
The Stark-Wayne estate, a fortress of steel and stone, felt emptier now. Elias and Helena, Alex's parents, had stepped into the void left by their siblings, running Stark Industries and Wayne Enterprises with a ruthless efficiency that masked their secret: the four "dead" parents lay in suspended animation, hidden in a vault beneath the estate, preserved by experimental SHIELD tech. They'd quit the agency to protect this truth, citing corporate duties, but Alex sensed their late-night whispers held deeper mysteries. He didn't know about Vought's Compound V tainting the streets, nor the Court of Owls weaving their Hydra-aligned schemes through Gotham's shadows. To him, the world was still a Marvel-DC tapestry -Hydra, the Joker, maybe Superman or Darkseid but the stakes felt closer every day.
His cousins, Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne, both 21, were ghosts of their former selves. Tony, once the brash teen who'd sneak Alex into his lab to build mini-rockets, had spiraled. By 2007, he was a tabloid fixture, drowning in alcohol and fleeting romances, his genius flickering in sporadic bursts of research at Stark Industries. Alex made it a ritual to visit him, slipping past paparazzi to Tony's penthouse in Stark Tower's upper levels. They'd tinker together Tony half-drunk, Alex quietly steering him toward sobriety with talk of arc reactors or AI. "You're too smart for your own good, kid," Tony would slur, ruffling Alex's hair before passing out on a couch littered with circuit boards. Those moments, fleeting as they were, kept them tethered.
Bruce was another story. After his parents' "murder," he'd vanished on what Alex's meta-knowledge recognized as his Batman origin journey—training across the globe, from Himalayan monasteries to League of Shadows dojos. Alex wrote him letters, sent to P.O. boxes in obscure cities, pouring out his thoughts on Gotham's crime, SHIELD's secrets, and his own strange certainty that their world was a story he'd read before. Bruce's replies were rare, cryptic postcards with phrases like "Keep your eyes open" or "Strength is in the mind." Alex cherished them, pinning them to a board in his room, a map of his cousin's unseen path.
At the estate, Alex found solace in two unlikely anchors: Alfred Pennyworth and Pepper Potts. Alfred, the Wayne family butler, had become a surrogate grandfather, his dry wit and endless patience grounding Alex during late-night study sessions in Wayne Manor's library. Pepper, Tony's ever-competent assistant at Stark Industries, treated Alex like a younger brother, sneaking him into board meetings to "learn the ropes" and slipping him extra cookies during tense corporate dinners. Their bond was a quiet rebellion against the chaos of their world, a family forged in loyalty rather than blood.
On his 14th birthday, September 21, 2007, Alex celebrated in the estate's dining hall, a cavernous space lit by chandeliers and Stark tech displays. His parents, tied up with a transatlantic merger, joined via video call, their faces pixelated but warm. "You're growing too fast, Alex," Helena said, her smile tight with unspoken worries. Elias raised a glass from across the ocean. "To our prodigy." Alfred stood by with a perfectly baked cake, while Pepper, in a rare moment of downtime, teased Alex about his latest drone prototype crashing into a fountain. The clock ticked closer to midnight, the air heavy with the weight of another year in a world of capes and conspiracies.
As the clock struck twelve, a faint *ding* echoed in Alex's mind, sharp and otherworldly. The room froze—or perhaps his perception did. A translucent interface materialized in his vision, words glowing like a heads-up display from one of Tony's suits:
[System Activated: Multiverse Life Simulator]
[Host: Alexander Stark-Wayne]
[Age: 14]
[Abilities: None Unlocked]
[Simulation Credits: 1 (Annual Free Allocation)]
[Earn Additional Credits: Contact with Heroes/Villains (Variable Yield)]
[Description: Simulate lives in alternate worlds from movies, anime, cartoons, and games. Rewards scalable. Starts now—use to prepare for the chaos ahead.]
Alex's breath caught. *What the hell?* His past-life memories had prepared him for heroes and villains, but this—this was an isekai cheat code, straight out of the anime he'd binged in another life. His heart raced as the interface shifted, presenting a menu:
[Simulation Menu]
[Available Worlds: Random Selection Based on Host Knowledge]
[Option 1: Movie - Star Wars (Jedi Path)]
[Option 2: Anime - Naruto (Shinobi Life)]
[Option 3: Cartoon - Avatar: The Last Airbender (Bender Training)]
[Option 4: Game - Assassin's Creed (Templar Hunter)]
He stared, the weight of possibility sinking in. Alfred's voice broke through, asking if he was alright. Alex nodded, forcing a smile, the interface fading but lingering in his mind. Pepper handed him a gift a sleek Stark Industries watch but his thoughts were elsewhere. A system. A chance to gain power, to prepare for the threats he knew were coming - Hydra, the Joker, maybe worse. He didn't know about Vought's supes or the Court of Owls' Hydra ties, but this system could change everything.
As the candles flickered and the video call ended, Alex felt the multiverse's gaze. Somewhere, a supe with a chilling smile monitored the Stark-Wayne legacy, and in the estate's depths, four frozen figures dreamed of awakening.