( Image)
Comic-Con, 4:12 PM
He looked perfect.
Black hoodie.
Red lining.
Combat boots.
And foam blades extending from his sleeves.
Alex Carter — yes, Alex — had always loved the irony.
Cosplaying Prototype's infamous anti-hero, Alex Mercer, at the biggest convention in the city.
He posed for pictures.
Growled for the camera.
Even did the dramatic slow walk through the crowd like he owned Manhattan.
He didn't.
But for a few hours?
He felt like he did.
---
10:38 PM — The Truck
The convention ended.
Rain slicked the pavement.
He crossed the street while checking his phone, still half in costume, hood up.
He never saw the headlights.
There was the screech of brakes.
A flash of white.
Then—
Silence.
---
The Void
There was no tunnel of light.
No pearly gates.
Just a black room.
And a wheel.
A massive, floating, golden wheel divided into countless glowing segments. Each slice bore the name of a universe.
A calm voice echoed from nowhere.
> "You have died prematurely. Compensation has been approved."
Alex blinked.
"…Compensation?"
> "You may reincarnate. Destination determined by chance."
The wheel spun.
It spun faster than physics allowed. Universes blurred together.
Fantasy realms. Sci-fi galaxies. Anime worlds. Horror timelines.
It slowed.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
It landed.
Prototype / Resident Evil
Two nightmares fused into one reality.
A world of viral outbreaks, bio-weapons, corporate conspiracies, and cities that never survived the night.
Alex swallowed.
"…Of course it did."
---
Second Spin — Identity
Another wheel appeared.
This one smaller.
Labeled: Reincarnation Type.
It spun.
Civilian.
Soldier.
Scientist.
Side character.
Random infected.
Tick.
Tick.
It stopped.
Alex Mercer.
The voice paused — almost amused.
> "You will reincarnate as Alex Mercer."
Not a bystander.
Not a survivor.
The apex predator himself.
The original Blacklight.
The man who devoured Manhattan.
Alex's mind reeled.
"I'm… becoming him?"
> "Correct."
---
Third Spin — Bonus Ability
A third wheel manifested.
This one felt different.
Wild.
Chaotic.
Its segments ranged from absurd to overwhelming.
Perfect Whistling.
Master of Doing Dishes.
Infinite Charisma.
Reality Collapse.
Unlimited Blade Works.
Alex stared.
"…This feels rigged."
The wheel spun.
And spun.
And spun.
It slowed.
It passed minor talents.
It skipped flashy anime powers.
It drifted across abilities beyond mortal understanding.
Then it stopped.
Self Supremacy.
The void grew still.
---
The Meaning of Self Supremacy
The voice spoke again.
> "Self Supremacy: Absolute dominion over one's own existence."
Understanding poured into him.
Complete authority over:
Body
Mind
Soul
Instinct
Growth
Evolution
No forced mutation.
No loss of control.
No corruption by virus or parasite.
If he became Alex Mercer…
He would not be consumed by Blacklight.
Blacklight would function under his will.
He would not merely adapt.
He would decide how he evolved.
---
The Final Question
> "Do you accept?"
Alex laughed softly.
He had cosplayed a monster for fun.
Now he was being offered the real thing.
A world of Resident Evil bio-weapons.
A world of Blacklight.
A world where humanity survived by inches.
And he would be reborn as its most dangerous entity.
But this time…
With complete control over himself.
"…Yeah," he said.
"I accept."
---
Rebirth
Pain.
Agony.
Cells dividing at impossible speed.
Memories not his own slamming into his mind.
The name.
The lab.
The betrayal.
Penn Station.
The release.
The virus.
But beneath it all…
A steady center.
Him.
Not overwritten.
Not erased.
Not replaced.
The Blacklight virus surged through his veins.
It waited to dominate.
To rewrite.
To consume.
He smiled in the darkness of a body bag.
"No," he whispered.
"You don't get to control me."
The virus stilled.
Aligned.
Outside, sirens wailed across Manhattan.
Inside the morgue drawer—
Red eyes opened.
Not as a monster.
Not as a victim.
But as a man fully sovereign over himself.