Super Template System In Marvel and Beyond-Chapter 242: Parallel World VIII

As the shimmering dimensional pocket sealed completely, Dave floated for a few long seconds—shoulders rising and falling with each slow breath. The pulsing runes around his hands faded. The glow in his eyes dimmed. Something in him... shifted.

He looked at Perry and gave a faint, worn smile. "That's it then."

She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"My time's up." He lifted his hand and showed her the dial on his wrist—a glowing red ring now steadily flashing.

"I told you," Dave said, voice quieter now, "this version of me... wasn't permanent. Forty-eight hours. Borrowed time. Just a projection given form through my original self's anchor."

Perry's eyes narrowed. "So you're—?"

He nodded. "Red means overwrite complete. The real Dave is about to come back." He blinked a few times as his features began to shimmer, his skin pulsing slightly like heat over metal.

Then, suddenly—he jolted.

The magic aura around him vanished.

His body swayed, and he blinked rapidly, glancing around like someone waking up from a long, vivid dream.

"Wh—what the hell...?" he murmured. "Where am I? What—?"

He looked at his hands, flexing them slowly. His clothes were scorched in places, his fingers nicked with dried blood. Arcane markings glowed faintly on his arms—residue from spells he had no memory of casting.

Perry stepped forward cautiously. "Dave?"

He turned his head toward her, eyes wide with confusion. "Yeah—I... I think. Wait. Who are you?"

Perry blinked. That wasn't the answer she expected.

"It's me—Perry. Shield operative. We've been working together for the past couple of days." Her voice lowered. "You don't... remember any of it?"

Dave took a step back, eyes scanning the cracked dimensional space around them—floating rubble, flickering light distortions, the faint echo of a closing rift.

"This... this isn't a dream, is it?" he muttered.

"No," Perry said gently.

"I'm not supposed to be here." Dave looked down at himself. "What the hell am I wearing? Why does this look like someone slapped together a wizard cosplay with leftover tech parts?"

He spun in place, his voice rising a little. "Why are my arms glowing?! Why do I feel like I've been bench pressing lightning bolts?!"

"Hey, hey, breathe," Perry said, stepping closer and placing a steadying hand on his arm. "You're safe. You're okay. You were... taken over, temporarily. By a stronger version of yourself—"

"What?" Dave said sharply, pulling his arm away. "Taken over? Version of me? Look, lady—I'm just a software engineer. I live in Queens. I work remote. I don't even know how to throw a punch! I don't know what a 'Shield' is, and I've never met you!"

Perry's expression shifted. She exchanged a glance with Furiosa, who had been quietly observing from a short distance.

"Dave," Furiosa said, "you're not just anyone anymore. Something—or someone—borrowed your body to stop a disaster. And now that the mission's over... you're back."

Dave's mouth opened, then closed. He rubbed his temples. "This is insane. I don't do magic. I don't fight disaster. I don't—what even was that thing?"

"Lady Goblin," Perry said. "A variant of Norman Osborn from a parallel world. She took a serum and turned into a monster. You—well, the version of you—sealed her in a collapsing dimensional rift using some kind of spell-tech hybrid. It worked."

"This is not my Tuesday," Dave muttered, sitting down on a floating slab of stone. "I was supposed to go grocery shopping today. Maybe binge a few episodes of something."

He looked up at Perry again. "So... what now? Am I going to explode? Mutate? Get recruited into a team of superheroes or something?"

Perry hesitated.

"...We don't know."

"Awesome," Dave muttered sarcastically. "Just peachy."

Furiosa stepped forward, finally speaking in her usual blunt tone. "You're not the first. Dimensional drifters like you—normal people overwritten by powerful versions—leave behind... echoes. Sometimes abilities linger. Sometimes memories. Sometimes nothing."

Dave gave her a deadpan look. "Comforting."

Perry knelt down beside him. "But whatever happens, we're not going to leave you in the dark."

He sighed, long and slow. "I guess I better get used to a whole lot of weird."

"You'll adapt," Perry said with a small smirk. "Or the universe will throw another version of you into your body again and make the decision for you."

He groaned. "Terrific."

As the rift above them pulsed once more—quiet, final, and then faded—Dave looked up at the now stable skies.

"So... what will happen to me now?"

Perry grinned. "Let's find out."

***

Back in the Marvel universe, Dave floated mid-air, surrounded by fading magical circles. The soft hum of residual energy whispered through the air, seen by many below who looked up in awe and confusion.

He slowly opened his eyes, watching as the glowing runes and complex sigils dissolved like stardust around him. A faint smirk curled on his lips.

"Hm... I'm back," he murmured to himself, arms slowly dropping to his sides.

His boots gently touched the ground, and the air settled with a calm stillness. He looked up at the sky, then down at his hands.

"That was fun," he said with a dry chuckle. "Guess I'm going to try it... one more time."

Dave mumbled to himself as he sat back on the bed, the Darkhold open in front of him. He began to chant once again, his voice low and steady. As the words flowed, his eyes closed—and just like before, he felt his consciousness pulled away, snapping into another body.

"Another world" he mumbled standing upright—only to freeze when he saw the melons on his chest... and felt the unmistakable weight on his new frame.

"I turned into a girl?" he mumbled, voice higher, eyes wide in horror.

Without wasting a second, he chanted the reversal spell and immediately snapped back into his real body.

"Damn... that was a nightmare," he muttered, wiping his forehead as he closed the Darkhold with a groan. "I guess I've had enough for now."

He slid the cursed book back into his inventory, let out a long sigh, and laid back down. Within moments, he drifted into a deep, easy sleep.

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