Oh, Chris! You dropped your pen."
"Oh, thanks, Peter—"
I froze. Peter?
Before I could finish the thought, the world fractured.
It felt like a freight train made of pure lead had slammed into my skull at two hundred miles per hour.
My vision swam, turning into a kaleidoscope of static and blood-red light.
"Chris? Whoa, man, what's wrong with you?"
"Haa... nothing, Pete," I wheezed, clutching my head as I slumped against a locker. "Just... a huge headache. It hurts like hell."
But it wasn't just a headache. It was sixteen years of suppressed memories flooding in at once.
The Void. The Deal. The "God" who wanted entertainment.
I remembered my past life as an otaku, and I remembered this life: Christopher Maxwell, orphan, living with an aunt and uncle.
And standing right in front of me was Peter Parker.
The future Spider-Man was currently my dorky best friend since childhood.
The pain didn't stop. It evolved.
Suddenly, the school wasn't just filled with students. I could feel them. Not the people—the others.
I felt the frantic heartbeat of a pigeon on the roof.
I felt the skittering of a thousand legs as a colony of ants marched beneath the floorboards.
I felt the rats in the basement and the lizards in the science lab.
They weren't just animals anymore. They were extensions of me.
I blacked out as the range of my consciousness exploded outward, touching every living thing within a full kilometer.
A Few Hours Later...
The rhythmic thwack-thwack of a ceiling fan brought me back to reality.
I was in a hospital bed.
To my left, my aunt and uncle looked on with weary expressions.
My cousin, predictably, was nowhere to be seen—probably too busy to care about her "freak" cousin passing out.
"Oh my god, Chris! You almost gave us a heart attack!" my aunt cried.
"Sorry, Auntie... I just didn't feel well."
My uncle sighed, a mix of relief and annoyance. "At least you could have said something, kid. Don't do this again."
"I won't. I promise."
I played the part of the recovering nephew, but inside, I was screaming with excitement.
I felt a raw, primal power thrumming in my veins.
I also made a mental note to thank Peter; if he hadn't rushed me to the nurse, who knows what would have happened when I went into "The Red" for the first time.
That Night
The moment I got home and confirmed my guardians were asleep, I locked my door.
It was time to test the "Cheat."
I closed my eyes and focused. I reached out with my mind, searching for a connection.
I found one—a tiny, flickering spark beneath the floorboards. An ant.
I tapped into it.
Whoosh.
Instantly, a surge of strength flooded my muscles. It was intoxicating.
I felt like I could bench-press a tank.
Following the logic of the "Movie" start, I was limited, but 50x my body weight was still insane for a teenager.
I picked up my heavy oak desk with one hand, lifting it like it was made of cardboard.
"Holy... this is real."
Suddenly, the weight returned. I nearly dropped the desk, catching it just in time with a loud thud.
The strength was gone. I sensed the ant—it had moved out of my immediate range.
Note to self: Work on the range and the tether.
I couldn't wait. I snuck out of my window, dropping silently to the pavement.
I headed for a dark alleyway where the cameras couldn't see me.
A stray dog wandered by, tilting its head at me.
"Yo, what's up?" I said, using the mental link of The Red.
The dog froze. "Human? Human can hear me? Human understand? Yes! Yes! New human friend!"
I chuckled. "You want to see something cool?"
The dog didn't respond with words; it let out a long, soulful howl.
Within minutes, the alley was crowded.
A sleek female cat—Selene—balanced on a dumpster.
A rat with a notched ear—James—leaned against a brick.
Even an owl perched on a fire escape.
"Why did you call us, Bart?" Selene asked, her mental voice dripping with feline disdain.
"Human can understand us!" Bart wagged his tail so hard his whole body shook.
The rat, James, squinted his beady eyes at me.
"I don't know, Bart. He smells broke. Not a single penny in his pocket. I don't work with broke niggas."
I felt a literal sting of hurt. "Hey! I'm sixteen! And I'm working on it!"
"Don't mind James," the owl hooted calmly. "He is cynical. I am Hoot. What do you want from us, Christopher?"
"I'm going to need your help," I told the gathered council of the streets.
"I need eyes and ears. In exchange, I'll bring treats and high-grade food."
They agreed, mostly for the snacks.
As dawn began to break, I decided to test one more thing.
I tapped into Bart's essence—the raw, sprinting power of a hound.
I took off. The wind whipped past my face as I blurred down the sidewalk.
It was pure, unadulterated freedom.
I even found myself sticking my tongue out, feeling the cool air against it.
Okay, I get it now. Dogs are onto something. This feels amazing!
I scaled the wall of my house, slipped through my window, and collapsed onto my bed just as the sun began to rise.
Tomorrow, the real training begins.
I need to push these powers.
If I can do this with an ant and a dog... what happens when I find something bigger?