Chapter 3: Settling In and Portal Practice
[SYSTEM MESSAGE: SOLAR ENERGY ABSORPTION (MINOR) SOLD TO SYSTEM. TP GAINED: 50. CURRENT TP: 400.]
The notification popped up as I lay on my new, somewhat utilitarian couch, enjoying the quiet hum of my newly acquired apartment. I had given it some thought. While having a nascent ability to absorb solar energy sounded cool in theory, its "extremely slow" absorption rate meant it was practically useless in any immediate combat scenario. Plus, I had other, more pressing needs, like better speed, better combat skills, and definitely more TP. So, I'd traded it in. Fifty TP for a skill I likely wouldn't use anytime soon. A smart tactical decision.
"Hmm, 50 TP. That's enough for… well, probably not a new super suit, but maybe a really fancy coffee mug from the System Market. Or a slightly less obscure piece of Nth metal. The possibilities are endless, assuming 'endless' means 'limited by my current TP balance.' Still, good to know I have options. If I ever find myself with a skill I absolutely do not need, like, say, 'Expert Knowledge of Obscure Martian Fungi,' I can offload it. Or, better yet, trade it to someone who does need it. Imagine: 'Hey, J'onn, I've got this skill that gives you encyclopedic knowledge of alien spores. All I ask is for… a ride to the moon? And maybe some Chocos.'"
The coffee was doing its job, slowly but surely burning away the lingering existential weirdness. I spent the next hour just… observing. I paid attention to the ambient sounds, the snippets of conversation, the way the light fell through the windows. Every detail, absorbed and cataloged by my suddenly hyper-aware mind. This was it. This was my life now. Not a simulation, not a dream. A living, breathing, superhero-filled reality.
After finishing my coffee, I decided it was time to move. Sitting in a coffee shop perpetually admiring the ceiling tiles wasn't exactly contributing to my primary goal of "surviving, getting stronger, and protecting Kara Danvers." I needed to establish myself. Get a place to live. And, crucially, practice my new portal-creation ability. My first wish granted me the ability to open portals between the Arrowverse and MCU. My second wish allowed for broader multiversal travel. It was time to put the first wish to the test.
I stepped out of the coffee shop, the National City sun a surprisingly pleasant warmth on my skin. The architecture was a familiar blend of modern skyscrapers and older, art deco-inspired buildings. The air was clean, surprisingly so for a major city, probably thanks to a distinct lack of heavy industry and an abundance of alien-powered wind turbines, or something.
My adaptable body already felt… acclimatized. No lingering nausea, no disorientation. It was like I'd always belonged here. Which, technically, I guess I had, for all of an hour.
"Alright, Adam, first things first. Abode. Preferably one that doesn't involve sleeping in an alley or convincing Kara to let me crash on her couch on the first date. As tempting as that second option is."
My internal inventory check reminded me I had 400 TP. Not enough for a penthouse, but perhaps enough for a modest apartment. The system market was my next stop. I brought up the holographic display, navigating to the "Housing" section, which, to my surprise, actually existed. There were listings. Actual listings, complete with floor plans and vague descriptions like "Cozy Urban Retreat" and "Spacious Loft with City Views." Prices were listed in TP.
"Right. Because money is for chumps. Or, you know, for people who don't have cosmic trading systems. Let's see… 'Cozy Urban Retreat,' 100 TP. 'Spacious Loft,' 500 TP. 'Luxury Penthouse with Rooftop Helipad,' 5000 TP. Yeah, that last one's a hard pass for now, unless I plan on trading my left kidney and half of Superman's cape. Cozy it is."
I selected the "Cozy Urban Retreat," confirmed the purchase, and instantly, a set of holographic keys materialized in my inventory. Along with them, a mental map of National City with a blinking waypoint. Seamless. Almost too seamless. I felt a pang of longing for the days when finding an apartment involved obnoxious real estate agents and mountains of paperwork. Almost.
The apartment building was nothing fancy, a mid-rise with a decent view of the city. The apartment itself was clean, furnished with basic, functional furniture, and had a small kitchenette. It wasn't a palatial estate, but it was mine. A real place in a real-but-fictional city. And it even had a fire escape, perfect for dramatic brooding and/or quick escapes from angry aliens. Or angry landlords, if this universe had those.
"Okay, home base established. Now for the fun part: interdimensional travel. This is where things could either get really cool or really messy. Let's aim for 'really cool' and avoid 'messy,' which usually involves me accidentally portaling myself into a dimension of sentient sock puppets."
I closed the blinds, locked the door, and stood in the center of the living room. The instructions for Portal Creation were surprisingly intuitive, almost like a pre-programmed muscle memory. My first wish granted me specific access: between Arrowverse Earths and the MCU Earth. My second wish via the Trader System would expand this to the broader multiverse, but for now, I was limited to these specific destinations.
"First, a test. Small portal. Low stakes. Don't want to accidentally open a black hole in my new living room."
I focused. I pictured a blank wall, just a simple, innocuous wall. My old apartment building, perhaps. A place so utterly mundane, it couldn't possibly be dangerous. I closed my eyes, concentrating, willing the energy to coalesce. A faint hum vibrated in the air. A shimmering distortion formed in front of me, like heat haze rising from asphalt. It expanded, twisting into an oval, crackling with faint blue energy. Through it, I saw… a brick wall. A rather drab, graffiti-scrawled brick wall. A triumph!
"Success! It works! I'm a wizard, Harry! A very sarcastic, slightly underpowered wizard, but a wizard nonetheless!"
I carefully poked a finger through the portal. It felt… normal. Like touching solid brick. No weird dimensional distortions, no instant disintegration. Good.
I dispelled the small portal with a thought, the shimmering distortion collapsing inwards with a faint pop. It didn't feel draining, which was a relief. Clearly, the smaller the portal, the less energy required.
Next, something a bit more ambitious. My mental picture: S.T.A.R. Labs. Specific. Iconic. And, crucially, a place where people were used to weird science and sudden, inexplicable appearances. Barry Allen and Cisco Ramon would be there. Future best friends. Potential trade partners.
"Okay, S.T.A.R. Labs. Central City. Earth-1. This is where the real fun begins. Or, you know, where I accidentally trip over a stray cosmic treadmill and unleash a new supervillain. Either way, it'll be a story."
I focused, picturing the main lab in S.T.A.R. Labs, the one with all the screens and the big central table. The hum started again, louder this time. The distortion grew, swirling into a larger, person-sized oval. The air crackled with more intensity. Through the shimmering veil, I could distinctly see scientific equipment, glowing screens, and what looked like a half-eaten pizza box on a table. Classic S.T.A.R. Labs.
I hesitated. This was a leap of faith. A literal leap between universes. My heart thumped a nervous rhythm against my ribs.
"Alright, Adam. Don't be a chicken. You survived death. You got wishes. You just hugged Supergirl. You can do this. Besides, what's the worst that could happen? Barry accidentally runs through me? Cisco tries to give me a goofy nickname? Ralph Dibny tries to teach me a new elasticity trick?"
Taking a deep breath, I stepped through the shimmering portal.