Chapter 1: A Hero's Death, A God's Offer
The truck came out of nowhere.
One second, he was scrolling through his phone, walking home after another long shift at work. The next, he heard the unmistakable screech of tires, followed by the panicked screams of bystanders.
His head snapped up.
A child—no older than six—stood frozen in the middle of the crosswalk. His mother, stuck behind a crowd, screamed his name, but he didn't move.
And the truck wasn't stopping.
His body reacted before his mind caught up.
He sprinted.
His feet pounded against the pavement, muscles burning, heart hammering. The massive eighteen-wheeler was less than ten feet away when he reached the boy.
With all his strength, he shoved him out of the way.
Then—impact.
The world turned into agony.
Metal crunched against flesh and bone, sending him flying like a ragdoll. His body slammed against the asphalt, bones snapping, lungs burning.
Distantly, he heard people screaming. The mother sobbing.
His vision blurred.
But the boy was safe.
A weak, satisfied smile crossed his lips.
Then—darkness.
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He awoke to nothingness.
No pain. No weight. No sound.
Just an endless white void.
For a moment, he thought this was death—a quiet, empty nothingness.
Then, a voice spoke.
"You died."
He turned.
Before him stood a figure wrapped in flowing robes, its form shifting like the cosmos itself. Its eyes burned with the light of distant galaxies, neither human nor alien—something beyond comprehension.
"What… what are you?" he asked.
The being smiled. "A god, of sorts."
His mind reeled. "And where am I?"
"A place between," the god answered. "A crossroads, where souls pass before reaching their final destination."
He swallowed hard. "So… this is it?"
"It could be." The god studied him. "But I am not here to send you onward. I am here because you intrigue me."
He frowned. "Why?"
"You saw death coming," the god said, stepping closer. "And yet, you did not hesitate. You sacrificed yourself, not for glory, not for reward, but because it was right."
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Anyone would've done the same."
The god chuckled. "You say that, but I have watched your world for eons. Many think they would act. Few actually do."
Silence stretched between them.
Then, the god spoke again. "I shall offer you a gift. Three wishes. Anything you desire."
His breath caught.
Three wishes. Three anything.
He could ask for his life back. For wealth. Power. Immortality.
But deep down, he knew what he wanted.
"I only need one wish."
The god raised a brow. "Oh?"
"I want the life of Superman."
The god tilted its head. "Explain."
He took a deep breath. "I don't mean his face or body. I don't want to be him. I want his responsibility. His power to protect. The ability to stand against anything, to shield those who can't shield themselves."
The god's gaze deepened. "You do not seek his power for dominance. You seek it for duty."
He nodded. "I don't care about being Kryptonian. I don't care about looking like him. But I want to be able to do what he does. To be what he is. A symbol of hope. A protector."
The god was silent for a long moment.
Then, it smiled.
"Interesting."
A wave of energy pulsed through the void, wrapping around him like liquid fire. He gasped as power flooded his being—limitless strength, senses sharper than any human's, an unbreakable will.
But it wasn't just the power.
It was the clarity.
The unshakable resolve. The instinct to protect. The very essence of what made Superman Superman.
The god's voice echoed as the void began to crack.
"Go forth, Man of Steel, and shape your destiny."
Then—
The world went dark.
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