Callum plopped down at a computer, a plate of steaming, greasy, cheesy, garlic salted quesadillas in his hand. He took a bite as he started it up, relishing in the crunch of the tortilla. 'God I love a good quesadilla.'
Wasting no time, he typed in the first thing that came to mind: Hero.
The screen loaded for a split second then dozens of articles and images showed up, all of them sparking a memory in him. And the first one to appear just so happened to be a figure in a metallic red and gold suit- Iron Man.
Hunger forgotten, Callum leaned back in his seat, hand pressing over his mouth. His suppressed turmoil rising from his gut with a vengeance. He sat there and stared at the image of the one and only Tony Stark for what had to be minutes, his brain buffering.
"...This is real?"
This whole time, Callum had been struggling to come to terms with this series of strange events. He'd thought somewhere in the back of his mind that this was just an elaborate prank for some kind of show, or that he'd been drugged, but as he leaned forward and clicked through article after article, the truth bared its fangs.
"I've been transmigrated…"
Callum leaned his forearms on the table, covering his face and rubbing his eyes. "...Fuck."
Eyes closed, he did his best to examine his situation. 'Okay, if this is true I need to set some things straight. First of all, I'm still 18 and have the same name, but this version of me was homeless for a stretch of time. Given the state I was in when I woke, this body was probably dead…which explains why my chest hurt so much earlier.
Next is this strange tattoo. I don't know if mutants are a thing in this world, but I don't know how else to explain that.'
Thinking for a moment more, Callum started looking up more information. The time and date, what heroes were active, etc.
'The Avengers aren't a thing just yet, but there's sightings of Hulk and a massive unexplained impact followed by a freak thunderstorm down in Mexico, so it's only a matter of time.'
And Callum did think that mutants existed in this universe. There weren't any actual names given or anything, but there were quite a few articles and internet forums about people getting mysterious powers. And one Charles Xavior did have a large plot of land in the countryside outside NYC limits.
He rubbed his eyes, shutting the computer down and getting up, bringing his plate with him to one of the private rooms. "First things first I need to ask Karen about someplace to work. I need some money, and a lot of it…
For some reason Tony's yet to announce that he's pulling back from weapon development, maybe I can borrow some money and invest in Stark Industries when their stock drops."
—
4 Months Later: 8:30 PM
In a small, three room apartment, an analog alarm blared on a nightstand. A low groan erupted from the bed beside it, or rather underneath the sheets atop it. A tanned, muscled arm reached out and dropped on the switch, shutting it up.
The sheets rolled as a young man sat forward. His curly brown hair had been given a wolf cut after it had grown too wild, but the biggest change seen in him was his build. From a scrawny kid on the verge of death, he'd massively filled out, and muscles had even begun to peek through his skin.
Callum rolled out of bed and dropped into a plank position, repping out his morning workout as he had since moving. Once his body no longer felt stiff he stood up and took a quick shower, and as he was getting dressed his phone went off.
He answered it and propped it against his shoulder as he brushed his teeth. "Callum Reign."
"Hey Cal, how's your studying going?" A charming voice belonging to none other than Matt Murdock entered his ears.
Callum groaned. "Ugh, I just woke up, don't remind me about school yet."
"Haha, I know you're not a morning person but getting those classes done is all that's holding you back from applying to college!"
"Yeah, that and the thought of crippling debt."
Matt laughed again. "Come on Cal, you and I both know that you have enough to put you, your kids, and your grandkids through college after you lucked out on Stark."
Cal had to admit, he was right. He'd made millions by buying and selling stocks in Stark Industries. The stock agent was absolutely astonished when that deal worked out too, and he was pissed when Cal refused to give him a cut.
'The guy had been a complete prick, so he deserved it.'
"Don't worry Matt, I'm almost done with them. Turns out I'm smarter than I thought." For convenience, he'd gone with the amnesia route since he didn't have any memories from who he 'was.'
Callum could hear Matt's smile. "Trust me I know. Your records say that you had been applying for several colleges before you left the orphanage, but obviously you couldn't do any more afterwards."
'Ah, right, I nearly forgot I'm an orphan now.' He remembered something about he'd appeared at the orphanage one day, and Matt had yet to find anything about potential parents.
Cal looked out the window and noted the time. 'Still have time.'
"All right Matt, I've gotta run, got a few errands to clean up."
"Okay, have a good day and if you need anything call me."
"Anything? What if I get caught in the middle of a gang war, how are you gonna help me with that?"
The mirth was practically dripping from Matt's voice. "Let's just say I know a few people. See you round Cal!"
Callum shook his head as the call ended and looked around the room one last time to see if he'd forgotten anything. Once he was sure, he raised a hand off towards where he knew a high rise building was and…dissapeared.
Pop!
With a hardly audible pop, Callum appeared atop a 52 story building, holding a small black iron ball. He smiled as he palmed it, letting it sink beneath his skin and rejoin the tattoo.
"I'll never get used to telepoting like that, it's so fucking cool!"
A while ago, while playing with his tattoo/weapon, he'd figured out two things: The first being that he could change the shape of the tattoo weapon to whatever he wanted, though there were some limits like size and weight. The largest and heaviest he could make was a large hammer the size of his body, nearing five hundred pounds…roughly.
The second was that he could will himself to teleport wherever he'd left a part of the weapon and vice versa, meaning that he could be anywhere he wanted as long as part of his tattoo was there.
"Thus far, I've been taking inspiration from Minato, but we'll see where this goes." Ducking under a solar panel, he found a bag he'd left the last time he was up here. Cal knew no one could find it because no one ever bothered to clean these panels anymore, and he assumed they were broken.
Opening it up, he found the simple suit he'd whipped up. Simple was putting it lightly. It was nearly completely black, and made to fit comfortably to his body. He crafted the shoes from the quietest pair of boots he could find and put a steel toe inside of each one. The shin and forearm each had their own protective guards, as well as his vital points. Namely, his mask was one very hard plate that covered under his chin to the back of his head.
And painted in stock white on that mask was the face of a ghost, a skull, faded and dreary. Only the eyes were visible, and it had no mouth. He'd even made a black mesh to cover the eyes to complete the image.
Callum didn't have a name in mind, but sometimes he felt like a dead man walking, which was why he'd chosen a ghost.
He sighed. "I don't know why I'm doing this…but I may as well have some fun while I do it."
His newly formed smile was hidden behind the mask as he fixed it to his face, gearing up. Before long, a ghost replaced him. Callum felt strange with his gear on for the first time, calmer, but also nervous.
He stepped up to the ledge, watching as the sunset painted the skies with his favorite colors. He listed there for a few moments before taking in a deep breath and leaning forward, letting gravity take him.
And when no one was paying attention, New York City gained its newest protector.