The first thing Mark Skywalker felt was warmth.
A soft, golden warmth that spread across his skin like sunlight through a window. His eyelashes fluttered open, revealing a wooden ceiling above him—dark beams crossed overhead, rough and earthly, completely different from the cosmic void he last remembered.
For a moment, he didn't breathe.
For a moment, he simply stared.
"…I'm alive."
His voice sounded deeper, smoother, more controlled. Not the shaky, hesitant tone he had in his old world. He pushed himself up slowly, and the bed beneath him creaked faintly. His hands brushed against the wooden frame, and he felt the texture—real, solid, grounded.
He took in the surroundings: a small cabin, made of thick logs, sunlight leaking in through the cracks between the wooden boards. A simple table, a bed, a small fireplace, and a single door. Nothing futuristic. No glowing panels. No cosmic energy leaking from the walls.
Just… a cabin in the forest.
Mark placed his hand on his chest. The muscles beneath his shirt flexed with strength he'd never possessed before. Every breath felt sharper, every sense more vivid. His earlier life's weakness felt like a distant dream.
"This… this is real," he whispered.
He needed more proof.
Mark raised his hand to his face and touched it gently. His fingers brushed against a jawline sharper than a blade, cheekbones carved like marble, and skin smooth and warm. Every feature felt unfamiliar yet perfect. He traced the bridge of his nose, the curve of his lips, the outline of his chin.
A slow smile pulled across his mouth.
"So the god really did it… I'm actually reborn."
The moment felt unreal—until excitement burst inside him like fireworks.
He stood up abruptly, nearly knocking the blanket off the bed.
"System!" he called instinctively.
A flash of gold shimmered before him, and a translucent screen appeared—thin, glowing, elegant, the symbols shifting like divine script before settling into readable form.
System Status
Name: Mark Skywalker
Height: 6'6
Powers:
Reality Warping — Level 1 (100/0)
Infinite Potential — MAX
———————————
Mark stared at the screen, chest rising and falling with exhilaration.
"…He really gave me everything I asked for."
A system. Reality warping. Infinite potential. A perfect body. A new world.
He wasn't some background character anymore. He wasn't a nobody walking through life waiting for death. He was Mark Skywalker—reborn with the seeds of godhood in his hands.
But he needed to test it.
Right now.
His eyes darted around the cabin, searching for something that wouldn't cause too much damage. He considered starting strong—maybe making the entire cabin vanish—but logic quickly overrode the impulse.
If he overdid it, he might collapse… or worse. Reality warping wasn't child's play.
"Okay… something small."
His gaze landed on a pillow sitting on the bed. Harmless, light, perfect for an experiment.
He held out his hand toward it.
The air around the pillow shimmered faintly. Mark focused harder, imagining the space where the pillow existed being rewritten… erased.
"I want it gone."
A breath.
A pulse.
A flicker of golden light.
The pillow vanished.
Mark froze.
Then slowly, a grin stretched across his face.
"It worked."
His heartbeat quickened. His lungs felt full of lightning. He'd done it—actual reality warping. His hand trembled with excitement as he spoke again:
"Now… make a new pillow."
Golden particles swirled in the air, condensing, shaping, forming. A new pillow—whiter, cleaner, softer—materialized exactly where the old one used to be.
Mark laughed.
A real, deep, joyful laugh.
For the next two hours, he experimented nonstop.
Small objects disappeared.
Small objects reappeared.
Colors changed.
Shapes shifted.
He learned the limits of Level 1 reality warping—small, simple changes, demanding focus and creativity. Not enough to reshape the world, but enough to reshape anything he could hold in his hands.
He couldn't stop smiling.
Finally, sweat on his forehead, he called the system again.
System Status
Name: Mark Skywalker
Height: 6'6
Powers:
Reality Warping — Level 1 (100/56)
Infinit Potential — MAX
——————————-
"Only two hours and I already gained more than half the bar…" Mark murmured. "I can level this up pretty fast."
His limitless potential ensured growth was never capped or slowed. The possibilities were terrifying—in the best way.
But before he could continue experimenting, a sound shattered the silence.
Knock. Knock.
His head snapped toward the cabin door. Someone was outside.
Mark tensed. He wasn't scared, but cautious. Who in the Marvel Universe wandered into a random forest cabin?
He approached the door slowly, hand hovering just slightly behind his back—not that he needed a weapon. If necessary, he could rewrite the air itself.
He opened the door.
Outside stood a bald man in a wheelchair, wearing a suit that radiated quiet authority. Behind him stood three figures: a tall woman with flowing white hair and dark skin, a rugged man with unkempt hair and claws barely hidden beneath the surface, and a man with red-tinted visor covering his eyes.
Mark blinked.
Professor Charles Xavier.
Storm.
Wolverine.
Cyclops.
All together. All in front of him.
Charles gave a gentle smile.
"Hello, young man. My name is Professor Charles Xavier. These are my students—Ororo Munroe, Logan, and Scott Summers."
Mark kept calm, though his mind was racing.
So this was how early he had entered the world—early enough for Charles to personally seek out new mutants.
Mark smiled politely.
"Hello, Professor. I'm Mark Skywalker. What can I do for you?"
Charles leaned forward slightly.
"I'm here to tell you that you're not alone in this world. There are many people like you—mutants. People born with gifts that separate them from ordinary humans. I run a school where we help individuals learn to understand and control their abilities. A place where you can belong… a family, if you choose."
Mark watched him carefully.
He knew Charles.
A master manipulator when he needed to be. A saint by intention, but ruthless when protecting his people.
Mark respected him. But he didn't trust him.
Still… Mark needed a foothold in this world.
A safe base.
Protection.
Resources.
And Storm was very easy on the eyes.
He grinned inwardly.
"I see," Mark said. "And what would I get from going with you?"
Charles smiled warmly.
"You will gain control over your powers so that you don't hurt anyone close to you. And more importantly… you will have people who will defend you when the world becomes dangerous. You will have a family."
Family.
Protection.
Training.
Mark nodded slowly.
"I accept."
Charles's smile widened.
Ororo gave a calm nod.
Logan grunted.
Scott watched him carefully, suspicious.
Mark stepped out of the cabin, closing the door behind him.
The forest opened up into a clearing where the iconic X-Jet waited, engines humming softly.
As they boarded, Ororo walked beside him.
"So, Mark," she said with a soft smile, "what is your ability?"
Mark smirked.
"You first. What's your name?"
She chuckled. "Ororo. Ororo Munroe."
"Beautiful name," Mark said, eyes gleaming. "Fits you."
Her eyebrow rose in amusement, but she didn't reject his flirtation.
A promising sign.
Scott, walking ahead of them, suddenly turned.
"What exactly are your powers?" he asked, voice sharp with curiosity and authority.
Mark didn't bother hiding the arrogance in his voice.
"I'm a god."
Scott blinked.
Then laughed.
"A god? Seriously? What can this 'god' do?"
Mark stepped closer, letting his eyes glow faintly gold.
"Reality warping."
Scott froze.
Ororo inhaled sharply.
Logan let out a low whistle.
Charles himself turned slightly, eyes widening a fraction. He knew this mutant is strong but, didn't know his gift
Reality warpers in the universe were rare.
Feared.
Often dangerous.
Logan smirked.
"Another heavy hitter. Just what we needed."
The plane ascended into the sky.
Everyone fell quiet, processing what they'd just learned.
Except Mark and Ororo—who kept talking softly, laughing quietly, stealing glances at each other.
He enjoyed her presence.
She enjoyed the attention.
As clouds drifted past the windows and the engines hummed steadily, Mark stared out toward the bright horizon.
A new world.
New powers.
New allies.
And infinite potential.
Everything he wanted was finally in his hands.
Eventually, the X-Jet approached a sprawling estate—lush grounds, fountains, towering architecture.
The Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters
His new home.
His starting point.
The birthplace of his ascension.
Mark Skywalker stepped out of the jet with a smile.
He wasn't here to become a student.
He was here to become a god.