Chapter 13 : A World in Between - New Life, Familiar Faces
The pieces were finally starting to fit together.
After hours of cross-checking news archives, online databases, and fragments of his new memories, Alex had a clearer view of the world he'd landed in — and it wasn't a one-to-one copy of anything he remembered. It was the beginning of the superhero era, a point where everything was about to ignite.
Tony Stark had already revealed himself as Iron Man. The Fantastic Four were on the verge of their debut. Mutants existed — publicly, divisively — but the X-Men remained ghosts in the background.
This world wasn't just the MCU. It wasn't the comics either. It was something in between — a fusion of both, where timelines blurred and details overlapped. A world familiar enough to recognize… but different enough to be dangerous.
Now that he understood the stage, Alex turned his focus inward — to the life he was supposed to be living.
The more he thought about it, the more sense things made. His memories, which had once felt like scattered puzzle pieces, began to align with what he knew of this universe.
For one, the Peter Parker of this world was unmistakably the MCU version — the younger one, still in high school, juggling awkwardness and brilliance in equal measure. Alex had crossed paths with him a few times — mostly through his little sister, who happened to be in Peter's class. Their interactions had been brief but pleasant. He remembered Peter as polite, quiet, and surprisingly insightful for his age — just another smart kid in Queens… for now.
As for himself, Alex Orzat was officially an engineering student at ESU — Empire State University. His specialization: computer engineering, which now felt almost poetic given the abilities he'd just assimilated.
His girlfriend, Gwen Stacy, was a biochemistry major — bright, driven, and currently interning at Oscorp under Dr. Curt Connors. That detail alone sent a ripple of unease down his spine. In any version of Marvel he knew, Connors plus Oscorp rarely equaled "safe."
His gaze drifted toward the poster on his wall — a band lineup of four girls in ripped jeans and smudged eyeliner.
The Mary Janes.
He'd always thought it was just a random indie poster, something his past self liked the look of. But now, it clicked. Gwen's band. Her other life outside of labs and lectures. The fact that it was hanging in his room said a lot about the kind of relationship they had — close, supportive… maybe even serious.
All of it painted a clearer picture of who "Alex Orzat" was supposed to be in this world.
A student. A boyfriend. A brother. A man with a normal, grounded life — dropped right into the opening act of a universe about to lose its sense of normal forever.
Alex leaned back in his chair, letting his gaze wander over the familiar corners of his apartment. Memories weren't just fragments of past events anymore — they were pieces of a life he could almost touch. A life that, somehow, felt like it had been waiting for him all along.
His thoughts drifted to his mother, Rosalie Orzat. Warm, tireless, endlessly patient. She had always been there, silently making sure everything ran smoothly, always putting her children first. Even with everything he had experienced in this new multiverse, he couldn't help but feel a pang of gratitude. A mother like hers didn't just exist in stories — she existed here, in his life. She would do anything for the happiness of her kids, bending over backward without ever asking for recognition.
And then there was the way she looked. A stunning woman in her early forties, brunette with captivating charm, her curves alluring yet refined, exuding confidence and femininity. Her mesmerizing eyes and full, expressive lips naturally drew attention, and her long, silky hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her face perfectly. Every movement was fluid, graceful, radiating an effortless sensuality. In a simple way to say it, she is a sexy milf with generous breasts and a magnificent ass. I knew it was strange — she was my mother in this life — but I couldn't deny that she was incredibly sexy, magnetic in a way that made me momentarily forget the boundaries of our relationship.
Then there was Wendy, my little sister. From the perspective of my new life, and with a bit of hindsight, she was a total bro-con — endlessly teasing, clever, and always somehow in the middle of my business. But she was more than that. A strikingly charismatic high school student in her late teens, brunette with soft, symmetrical features mirroring Mom's beauty. Her large, expressive eyes sparkled with curiosity and mischief, framed by naturally long lashes. She had a radiant, youthful complexion and full, gently curved lips that often broke into an infectious smile. Her glossy hair cascaded in waves, catching the light as she moved with effortless energy. Her slender, athletic figure was accentuated by casual but carefully chosen outfits, blending playful style with subtle sophistication beyond her years. She carried herself with confidence and lighthearted charm, a natural allure that drew attention without trying — a perfect mix of youthful vitality and emerging grace.
Alex smiled faintly, shaking his head. This family, this life, was grounding. Even with a Gacha system bending his destiny and powers he was only beginning to understand, there was a sense of home here. A touchstone to remind him that no matter how chaotic the multiverse became, there was a version of him that still belonged somewhere.
And as much as he loved the stability, he couldn't ignore the possibilities that lay ahead. Powers, strategies, influence — they weren't just tools. They were keys to navigating this world. But understanding it, understanding his life, meant first appreciating the people who already mattered.
I shook my head slightly, letting the images and sensations of my family and new life fade for a moment. The flood of thoughts, the powers, the Conquest Gacha… it was all starting to weigh on my mind. It was time for a break, to recenter myself. I stood up and headed to the bathroom. A hot shower would let me clear my head, letting the water wash away some of the chaos I'd just stepped into. And once I was refreshed, I could finally start thinking seriously about a plan of action.
New York, Queens – Wendy's POV
I'm glad school is finally finished for the day. I haven't been able to focus on anything since this morning's event.
My brother, the person I love most in the world, the love of my life, fainted this morning moments after I went to wake him up.
And what a surprise: when I went to wake him up, he was already standing but completely naked. What a sight—his athletic body had just the right amount of muscle. Not to mention his massive morning wood, which I only had time to notice before my brain screamed the evidence: 'Ahh! You're naked!'
I just hope he didn't see me ogling him before I blushed and ran out of his bedroom.
I spent the day with his image in my mind, unable to stop thinking about it. All I want now is to take a good shower and a masturbation session to get the image of his body out of my mind.
I finally came home. No sound in the apartment. My brother is probably still unconscious or he must have gone out, which is perfect for me and my project. I rapidly went to my room, which is opposite my brother's room.
I got into my underwear, grabbed a change of clothes and went to the bathroom.
The moment I entered the bathroom, I realized that Alex was neither out nor in his bed. He is right before me. Coming out of the shower, naked, his body still wet and dripping. And I just freeze.
Alex's POV
Just as I finished my shower and was about to grab a towel, a beautiful young girl in underwear entered the bathroom.
I recognized her immediately — it was Wendy, my little sister in this life.
Young, beautiful, and in her underwear, which was surprising but quite a sight.
This time I react first. "I hope that you walking into a room and finding me naked doesn't become a habit." I say with humor.
It takes her several seconds to react, which I used to observe her carefully, fair skin, perky boob, a really beautiful young woman. When she finally reacts she blushes intensely.
She mutters something that I don't quite understand before running out of the room.
I hope that her running every time she sees me is not gonna be a habit.
The steam still clung to my skin as I stepped out of the bathroom, a towel hanging loosely around my neck. The shower had done its job — the fog in my head had lifted, the noise in my thoughts had quieted. For the first time today, I could think straight.
When I walked back into my room, the sunlight had already shifted, casting long golden streaks across the floor. After the second "naked event" I can tell Wendy is home. Which meant Mom wouldn't be far behind. Mom never liked leaving us alone for long.
I let out a slow breath.
Time to start acting normal.
For all the powers I'd just awakened, this — this — was the real test. Pretending to be the same Alex they knew. The same guy who had passed out this morning, who lived an ordinary life, who hadn't woken up with two templates, six abilities, and the creeping awareness that his world was sitting on the edge of a Marvel-level explosion.
I sat down on the edge of my bed, staring at my reflection in the darkened screen of my laptop. My eyes looked the same. Maybe a little sharper, more focused. But there was no glow, no telltale sign of something supernatural. Just me. Or the version of me this world expected to see.
I'd have to keep it that way.
At least for now.
The hard part wasn't hiding my powers — it was hiding my change. The way I looked at things now. The way I thought. One wrong word, one off expression, and they'd know something was off.
Especially Mom. She was too perceptive for her own good.
I needed a believable excuse for what happened this morning — for the "collapse." Something simple, human, boring.
Overwork? Maybe.
Lack of sleep? Plausible.
Stress from exams? Perfect.
Yeah. That would work. Mom would scold me about studying too much, Wendy would tease me about acting like an old man, and life would move on.
I glanced around my room — textbooks stacked neatly on the desk, a half-empty coffee cup by the window, the faint smell of soap and laundry still in the air. Every detail matched the life of the Alex Orzat they remembered.
It was strange, really.
These things, this space — they felt both alien and familiar. Like I'd been living here for years and only just woken up inside the role.
But as I sat there, letting my eyes wander across the room, a realization crept in.
I didn't have to play a role. Not entirely.
People didn't notice change when it came slowly — when it slipped into the edges of what they already expected. If I shifted little by little, day by day, I could blend who I was now with who they remembered. And with Mind Whisper, I had an even subtler advantage.
The ability didn't just let me feel thoughts — it let me nudge them, gently, like steering a current rather than fighting it. A tone of voice here, a reassuring smile there… it wouldn't take much for them to accept any difference in me as natural growth.
That was the beauty of influence — not forcing, just guiding.
So maybe I didn't need to wear a mask.
Maybe I could rewrite it, piece by piece, until the mask and the man behind it became one and the same.
I leaned back, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of my lips.
If I played this right, I could adapt to this world without anyone suspecting how much I'd changed.
Not deception — strategy.
And maybe, for the first time today, I didn't feel like an imposter at all.
I sat on the edge of my bed for a moment, letting the quiet of the house settle around me.
The late afternoon light filtered through the blinds, painting long stripes across the floor.
Somewhere down the hall, I could hear faint music — Wendy's playlist, upbeat and familiar.
So she was in her room now.
I took a slow breath, running a hand through my still-damp hair. The reflection in the dark monitor across from me showed the same face, the same eyes… yet something beneath them felt different. Grounded. Focused. Confident in a way I hadn't been before.
If I wanted this new life to truly be mine, I couldn't just pretend to be the old Alex.
But I didn't need to fake it either.
Not if I moved carefully — gradually.
Small changes could pass unnoticed if they were subtle enough.
And with Mind Whisper, I could make sure those changes were accepted. Not forced, not erased — just gently woven into what they already believed.
Wendy was the perfect place to start.
Not out of manipulation or control — but because she was close, trusting, and open. The smallest shift in perception would pass as natural.
I stood up, straightened my shirt, and stepped into the hallway. The soft beat of her music grew clearer as I approached her room.
Two knocks.
"Come in!"
Her voice was bright, cheerful — the same tone from the memories I'd recovered.
Wendy's room was a colorful mix of early-2000s chaos and personality — band posters and magazine cutouts covered the walls, a few CDs stacked beside a small stereo, and a lava lamp glowing faintly on the dresser. Clothes were draped over a chair, and a school bag lay half-open on the floor, papers spilling out. She sat cross-legged on her bed, flipping through a glossy teen magazine, absentmindedly twirling a strand of her brown hair that had slipped loose from her ponytail.
When she noticed me, she looked up with that easy smile of hers — bright, warm, and just a little teasing. "Hey, big bro. You feeling any better?"
"Yeah," I said, stepping inside. "Just needed some air… and a cold shower."
She tilted her head, studying me with a kind of gentle curiosity. There was a flicker of concern beneath her smile — and something else too, something unspoken.
That was my opening.
Mind Whisper wasn't about domination or control — it was suggestion, subtle influence. A nudge in the right direction. The trick was to make the idea feel like it had always belonged to them.
So I reached out — not physically, but mentally — letting my focus settle on her. My thoughts shaped themselves into a calm, steady current:
It's fine. Nothing to worry about. Seeing me naked this morning and this afternoon doesn't matter. It's normal. Nothing embarrassing.
For a brief moment, it was like sending a ripple through still water — no resistance, no pushback, just quiet absorption. Wendy blinked once, her expression softening. She turned another page of her magazine as if the thought had already drifted into her mind, her shoulders relaxing slightly.
It worked.
I hid my smile, keeping my tone easy. "So, what are you reading?" I asked, nodding toward the magazine.
She glanced down at it and shrugged. "Just some dumb quiz thing. 'What kind of guy is your type,' or whatever." She laughed softly. "Guess I already know the answer, though."
I chuckled, though my mind was elsewhere — testing boundaries, refining control. The first use of Mind Whisper had gone smoothly. Maybe it was time to try another. Something harmless. Something simple.
I focused again, shaping the thought with precision before sending it her way — light, natural, like an idle idea crossing her mind.
He likes being called Alex instead of Alexander. It just feels right. Still your big brother — just Alex now.
Wendy blinked once, her gaze unfocused for half a second before she smiled again, as if remembering something she'd always known. "By the way," she said casually, "I should probably start calling you Alex, huh? Feels more like you."
I let out a quiet breath, feigning surprise. "Yeah… I think I like that."
"Don't worry," she added with a playful grin, "you're still my big brother, no matter what name you go by."
And just like that — another seamless shift. Subtle, effortless. Mind Whisper worked perfectly.
After a few more minutes of casual conversation with Wendy — laughing, teasing, and sharing small details of her day — I finally stood up and stretched.
"Alright, I should probably get going," I said, though it wasn't really a goodbye. We'd continue this later.
I left her room quietly, closing the door behind me. The house was still bathed in the soft glow of late afternoon.
Not long after, the familiar sound of the front door opening signaled Rosalie's return from work. Time to switch gears again — and face Mom with a story that made sense.