I open my eyes and everything is… nothing. Black. No sky, no ground, no walls—just infinite emptiness stretching in every direction. My chest rises and falls, and yet I know I am not alone. Behind me, the faintest ripple of presence—the same void senses that hint at five other people, my friends, all here.
And then the voice comes. Deep. Calm. Playful. Omnipotent.
"Welcome, children," it says. The words echo in the void, not from a direction, but from everywhere. "You have been chosen to play. I have built a world for you, a universe of chaos and order combined. Marvel, DC, and more. But it is… unfinished. You will shape it."
I blink, trying to process the scale. A God, bored, decides to make games out of universes. I feel a shiver of excitement—and maybe a little fear—curling down my spine.
"You each may choose any figure from history to become," the voice continues. "And you will be reborn at the peak of their power. All armies, resources, influence—everything that person commanded will be yours. To guide, to conquer, to… build. You will have abilities, one each, to aid you."
The void hums around me as my friends murmur, planning, scheming, instinctively gravitating toward the choices they know best. Elijah—no, Julius now—grins like a predator. Silver tongue, he chooses, because words are weapons and swords at once. Owen becomes Darius, master of shadows and manipulation. Lily is Cleopatra, golden touch at her fingertips. Tom takes the mantle of Sun Tzu, the ultimate strategist.
And then it's my turn. My mind scans the centuries of history. Kings, queens, generals, emperors… everyone with armies, wealth, power. But I feel a strange pull, something unexpected. A figure whose life ended in tragedy, whose potential was stolen from her, whose influence could reshape the world if I am clever enough. Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanova.
Yes. That will be me.
"And your ability?" the God asks.
I take a breath. I know my mind is my weapon. My advantage in this game isn't brute strength or the allure of gold, but knowledge, speed, strategy—the clarity to see patterns no one else can. Super genius. Perfect memory, instant comprehension, endless learning. Yes… yes, this will do.
The void shivers. And then, suddenly, everything falls away.
I wake to the warmth of the sun, the chill of snow underfoot. The scent of pine, the murmur of a bustling city in the distance. My body—my body—feels foreign, yet familiar. The reflection in the water nearby confirms it: a girl of aristocratic lineage, porcelain skin, eyes wide with awareness, hair braided elegantly. My mind races as memories flood in—not my memories, not entirely—but pieces of a life cut short, and yet… mine now. Power, influence, armies, resources… all laid at my fingertips.
I am Anastasia. But I am more than that. I am a super genius now, reincarnated into a time of swords and empires, and the others—my friends—are not far behind.
Julius, the eternal tactician, strides through a city that obeys his words. Darius melts into shadows like liquid, eyes glinting with secrets and schemes. Cleopatra's presence radiates wealth and danger, the world bending to her golden touch. Sun Tzu… even now, he is calculating ten moves ahead, armies shifting beneath his gaze like pieces on a cosmic chessboard.
And me? I must learn, I must think, I must survive. The God watches, amused, from beyond the void, and I know one thing for certain: this is a game, and I will not be played.
I step forward, testing the air, the snow crunching beneath my boots. My mind whirls, calculating everything: geography, politics, the balance of power between my friends, the dangers lurking in this hybrid world, and—most importantly—the SCP system we must now rebuild.
Yes. We are back in the world. A world of heroes, gods, villains, and now… us. And if the God thinks he's setting rules… he has no idea how fast we can learn to bend them.
Because I am Anastasia. And I will outthink, outlast, and outmaneuver everyone.