Maker In Marvel

"Checkmate," Cain declared, his voice dripping with playful arrogance as he leaned back in his chair. The grin tugging at his lips was infuriatingly wide, as though he'd already won a dozen times before.

Across from him sat a cloaked figure, shrouded in heavy shadows. Only the gleam of silver rings on his gloved hands pierced the darkness. A weary sigh escaped him, slow and measured, as if even his frustration was beneath him.

"You've won again," the elder muttered, irritation mingling with reluctant acceptance. With a flick of his wrist, a scroll materialized, unfurling in midair with deliberate grace. The parchment shimmered, etched in golden letters that pulsed like the heartbeat of an ancient god.

"As promised," the cloaked figure continued, his voice tight with restraint, "you may add another clause to the contract."

Cain leaned forward, his tousled golden hair falling into his sharp blue eyes. Mischief glimmered in those eyes, alive with a spark of chaos. "For an almighty being," he quipped, his grin tilting into a smirk, "you sure lose a lot. Maybe you should take some chess lessons."

The figure stiffened, gloved hands curling into fists beneath the heavy fabric of his robe. His voice dropped to a growl. "Watch your tongue, boy. One day, I'll twist the timeline just enough to make you regret this."

"Promises, promises," Cain teased, unbothered. "Now, for Clause Forty…" He tapped his chin, feigning thought, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his certainty. "How about this: I, Cain, should be able to manipulate the space-time continuum as I see fit."

The cloaked man froze. Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Then, with a curt nod, he raised his hand. "Agreed."

The scroll flared with radiant light, divine symbols blazing before burning into nothingness. A voice echoed through the void, booming and resonant:

"The contract has been completed. The Author shall bless His creation."

Above them, the void churned. Eyes—golden, crimson, azure, and hues indescribable—blinked into existence. They watched, unblinking, as though judging the pact forged before them.

The cloaked figure tilted his head skyward. "Witness the rise of my greatest creation," he proclaimed. His voice carried a sharp edge—pride or perhaps defiance. "Let the Contract of Games begin."

Cain snapped his fingers, the shimmering numbers swirling around him reacting like an excited crowd. His grin sharpened, a playful menace lighting his face. "Let's make it fun," he whispered.

Cain jolted awake, his breath ragged, chest heaving. The oppressive heat of the wasteland pressed down on him, the air thick and heavy. He groaned, dragging a hand through his hair as he glanced around. The towering branches of a small tree offered pitiful shade from the relentless sun.

"Groot," he muttered, his voice hoarse, "any updates?"

The tiny tree-creature shifted beside him, its bark-like body glowing faintly as it chirped, "Groot. Groot-groot."

Cain sighed. "So this sector's clear for about 300 meters, huh?"

"Groot," the creature confirmed with a nod.

Cain pushed himself to his feet, wincing as Groot helped steady him. The ground beneath them was cracked and dry, and the remnants of a broken supercomputer flickered dimly nearby. He stared at the machine for a long moment, its glitching screen displaying faint icons of forgotten multiverses.

"I know there are survivors out there," Cain muttered, more to himself than Groot. "Somewhere in this hellhole. But for now…" He glanced at the screen, his lips twitching into a small smile. "Let's begin the game."

He powered up the machine, its fractured surface buzzing to life. The words Accessing Multiverse flickered before the logo of Marvel appeared.

"Let's do this," Cain said, his voice brimming with confidence.

Groot chirped in agreement, the two sharing a laugh as they ventured into the unknown

....

"Lola, I took some money!" Ned called out to his grandmother from his room, trying to sound casual.

"How much?" she asked, peering over her glasses.

"A dollar!" Ned replied excitedly, almost bouncing on the spot.

Lola gave a little shrug and waved him off. "Then okay," she said, as. She watched him bolt back into his room, shaking her head. "What has gotten into this young man lately?"

Curiosity tugged at her thoughts as she glanced toward his room. "Let's see what he's up to..."

Same old games. Either about Captain America or some war that I've played a million times. I sighed as I scrolled through the site, my eyes lazily scanning the endless list of titles.

I had filtered the search to Newly Uploaded, Unrated, $1-$30. Still nothing exciting. Everything felt... stale.

That's when I saw it.

It wasn't flashy, no explosions or superheroes on the thumbnail. Just a strange icon: a massive, ominous building looming in the background, with a lone youth standing in front of it, showing his back to the viewer.

An escape game? Maybe. I clicked on it.

The title popped up: Foundation: Contain, Secure, Survive.

Its description was cryptic:

"I am a D-Class personnel, the lowest of the low, who must rise and claim my land in this cursed world."

That was it. No reviews, no details. Just the title and a dollar price tag. I hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. it is only a dollar anyway, I thought, clicking the Early Access button.

Before I knew it, the game had downloaded onto my PC. The install bar barely took a second to finish. My mouse hovered over the Play Trailer button.

"Let's see what you're about," I muttered, clicking it.

Suddenly, the screen erupted into a kaleidoscope of colors. My stomach churned as the colors swirled, faster and faster, until they finally coalesced into a vivid scene.

I was standing in the middle of a dense forest. Towering trees were covered in giant glowing mushrooms that pulsed faintly, like they were alive. A strange, disembodied voice echoed around me.

"The world was once a peaceful place before..."

The voice trailed off, and I turned, trying to find the source. That's when I heard it: a deafening roar. My eyes darted to the sky just as a bomb came screaming toward me.

"Shit!" I yelled, diving to the side. The explosion never came. Instead, I looked up and nearly fainted.

Standing above me was a monster—a grotesque abomination stuffed into a tattered Captain's suit. Its eyes glowed an unnatural red, its teeth jagged and dripping with some foul ichor.

"Fuck this!" I screamed, scrambling to my feet. I bolted in the opposite direction, heart pounding. The forest warped and shifted as I ran, trees twisting into unfamiliar shapes. The glowing mushrooms seemed to watch me as I passed.

The scene changed again, and suddenly I was standing in front of a massive building—the same one from the icon. The air felt heavy, as if the structure itself was alive.

I glanced back. My stomach dropped. An army of monsters was chasing me, their roars blending into a cacophony of terror.

"Open! OPEN!" I yelled, pounding on the massive doors of the building. "Open sesame, damn it!"

Nothing. The monsters were getting closer. The ground trembled beneath their weight.

Suddenly, the earth shook violently, and a colossal wall of tree roots erupted from the ground, forming a barrier between me and the horde. I stared in shock as the wall quivered, barely holding back the monstrosities.

Then, with a loud creak, the building's doors slowly opened. A youth stepped out, his face calm, his movements confident. He extended his hand toward me.

"Are you ready to become a member of the Foundation?" he asked, his voice calm but charged with authority.

Before I could respond, the wall behind me exploded. The largest monster yet—a towering, fleshy abomination with dozens of glowing eyes—burst through, rushing straight at me.

The youth didn't flinch. He leapt at the creature, his movements precise yet terrifyingly fast. His hands were empty, but he met the monster head-on.

Just as the two collided, the screen faded to black.

Words appeared on the screen, glowing faintly:

Welcome to the Foundation.

I sat back in my chair, heart pounding.

What the fuck just happened