{St. Peter's Orphanage, London}

{30th July 1986}

Worn out clothes. Peeling drywall. Four beds in one room. As the morning sunlight hit his face, waking him up to yet another day, Matteo sighed helplessly. As an orphan with nothing to his name, he definitely wasn't living a life of luxury... but even if he was dirt poor, Rachel Myers more than made up for it, the lovely caretaker that she was.

Matteo would take her over most parents. And while living with three other kids was a bit of a hassle, he was mature enough to get along with them.

There were certainly worse places to live.

"Eight years..." Matteo muttered, slightly exasperated.

Tomorrow was his eighth birthday.

Marking eight years since his 'reincarnation.'

Now, this wasn't something that he had asked for. In fact, Matteo had no idea as to why he had reincarnated. One moment, he was Matteo– 19, slightly above average college student– and then after a very inopportune house fire, he was, well, Matteo.

Having the same name in both lives was convenient. In fact, he had the same black hair and blue eyes, and the same overall appearance. It was a bit hard to tell, but Matteo was pretty sure that he had also been 'beautified.' His skin most certainly wasn't this flawless last time around.

'...Almost like someone purposefully reincarnated me.'

But even so, Matteo didn't have any cheats. No quests. No 'message from God.' Nothing.

Well, it wasn't all bad. Even if he was a penniless orphan without cheats, and he was British of all things, time was quite literally on his side. Instead of being born in the early 2000s like in his previous life, Matteo had been born in 1978.

He hadn't exactly memorized the future, but he was still certain that he could use being born in the past to his advantage, somehow. Investing in Apple, Microsoft, Google, and Amazon, just to name a few. And if that didn't work out somehow, having the mental constitution of an adult would certainly give him a headstart.

Well, two crucial pieces of information had brought that plan to a screeching halt.

Stark Industries and Wayne Enterprises.

When Matteo first learned that he shared a world with both of these companies, he nearly had a panic attack. Marvel and DC were both death worlds on their own, but he had ended up in a combination of the two. He honestly didn't know how that was going to work– 'Are Thanos and Darkseid both here? Are there 52 universes, or are they infinite? Or is there just a single one? Do I have to worry about the New Gods, the Celestials, or both?'

Matteo eventually decided just to not dwell on it. He didn't have any powers, (besides reincarnation, apparently,) and if he was being honest, he wasn't that talented. Matteo wouldn't stand a chance against the likes of Hydra or The Light, or even just... Robin. By himself.

Not to mention that, there were so many different fucking versions of both Marvel and DC, that his knowledge of what might maybe happen was most likely worthless, if not downright detrimental.

No, Matteo was just a background character, in the background, doing background things. He just had to not think about how fucked the world probably was, and just live his own life. Graduate early, get a degree, buy the right stocks, and settle. That was the goal.

'And maybe, hopefully, I won't be snapped out of existence in the next few decades.'

"Kids! Breakfast!" Ms. Myers called from down the hall.

Sophie, Quinn, and Ryan started to stir. They were 5, 7, and 11 respectively– it was just the four of them, with Ryan being the oldest, technically. Matteo gave them each a shake, to which they groaned, before heading down the hall and into the kitchen himself.

Auburn hair, hazel eyes, and well-endowed, Matteo was greeted by the sight of their caretaker almost done with making breakfast. 'A lovely woman indeed.'

"Morning Ms. Myers."

"Good morning Matteo," she started warmly, "would you mind setting the table?"

"Sure thing."

Matteo absentmindedly reached for the napkin roller, and started to tear a napkin... before immediately stopping. 'I could've done that better,' he thought. However, even though he had just thought that, Matteo didn't know WHY he had thought that. He just instinctively knew how to do it better.

Which he did.

The second napkin was a much cleaner tear. The third napkin was just as clean, but snappier, faster. Matteo knew that every subsequent napkin that he would tear would only be perfect... and he had no idea as to why.

'The fuck is this?'

"Matteo?" Ms. Myers asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Right, sorry." Matteo then reached for the forks and knives, since they'd be having waffles. But as he set the table, he noticed that every item that he placed was more and more perfectly positioned, as if the table was being set by a robot.

'Well, something is clearly happening here,' he mused.

"Mornin' Ms. Myers!"

Sophie entered, the pep in her step readily apparent. She had brown hair, brown eyes, and she was sparsely freckled. She was honestly adorable, the excitable ball of energy that she was.

"Morning..."

Quinn was next. Black hair, brown eyes, and covered in freckles. She was a lot more subdued than Sophie, and asked very few questions. For that reason alone, she was Matteo's favorite.

Ryan was last to enter.

"Morning woman," Ryan muttered, earning the boy a light-hearted slap. "Ow!"

Ryan had dirty blonde-hair and brown eyes. They had a rivalry of sorts– or rather, Ryan constantly tries to compete with him, saying things like 'I'm better than you cuz I'm older, or taller,' and Matteo subsequently ignored the boy. Among the kids in the orphanage, Ryan was his least favorite... but that didn't mean that he hated the brat. Like most relatively well-adjusted people, it was hard for Matteo to actually dislike children.

"Alright, let's dig in."

""Thanks for breakfast, Ms. Myers!""

As they all sat together and started eating, Matteo paid attention to his actions. Every bite, every sip– every single repeated movement– he would quickly perfect them. Not only did he perfect his movements, but he started to notice other slight changes.

His eyesight, his hearing, and even his sense of smell start to sharpen, as well as become more accurate in general over breakfast. It was only at breakfast's end did he come to a conclusion.

'The ability to quickly improve and master, in anything and everything...' Matteo recited the words in his mind, barely holding back a feral smile.

It wasn't the coolest power, no, but after eight years of having nothing...

He was downright ecstatic.

Matteo had already come to terms with being mediocre in a world filled with the extraordinary, but that didn't mean that he had happily reached that conclusion. He had been envious, angry even, that he was being teased in such a way– having the wonders of superpowers thrown in his face, just to never have them for himself. So after Matteo learned that he was truly special, aside from his reincarnation, he celebrated.

For all of three seconds.

'Wait, fuck, am I a mutant?' he thought, immediately panicking.

All of the sudden, Matteo found himself having to worry about Hydra, Sinister, Apocalypse, Trask, and so on and so forth. That wasn't even mentioning the DC side of things. Even if he never used his mutant ability ever again, technology would eventually develop to the point of passively detecting mutants, which could very well lead to his death, or worse.

The image of people that had been stripped down to just their brain stem, nervous system and eyes, only able to watch as they were experimented on through hell and back came to mind.

He shuddered.

Even if Matteo became a prodigal martial artist– the best martial artist– he would still be a baseline human, maybe a peak human. Sure, Matteo's senses had improved slightly, and there was a chance that his strength would too... but that didn't mean that his potential was endless, or even all that high.

After a single meal, Matteo felt like the entire world was after him.

'Fuck.'

***

{St. Peter's Orphanage, London}

{2 Hours Later}

Matteo was currently sitting on one of the few patches of grass in their backyard, meditating.

Yes, meditating.

The first thing Matteo had explicitly tried with his mutation was a frontflip, immediately followed by a backflip. He ended up landing them both on his first try, albeit slightly sloppy, before mastering both of them on his second.

Matteo only had enough time to land four flips total before Sophie waltzed into their shared bedroom, asking him what he was doing.

Now, the three brats were playing tag in the backyard while he meditated. Sophie had asked him what he was doing at first, and after Matteo explained what meditation was, she joined him... for about ten seconds, before going right back to tag.

As for why he was meditating?

Magic.

Mana, Chakra, Chi, Ki, Lifeforce– hell, even Willpower– were all sources of energy in the comics. With his mutation, which Matteo had dubbed 'Mastery,' allowing him to master whatever he put his mind to... he had decided to look within. Literally.

'If I have even the slightest potential for magic, that would mean that there is a chance that my ability to master everything would apply to it... and I could very well be the greatest mage to ever live.'

The thought nearly made him laugh manically, but he managed to reel it in.

It took him 11 minutes to feel it.

An endless river flowing through him, sparsely flowing through everything else, and spread ever so thinly through the air– it was every color, as well as colorless. Every odor, but odorless. It was an indescribable melody that was encompassing anything and everything.

It was the power to bend the world to one's will.

It was Magic.

"It's beautiful," he breathed.

"What's booty-full?"

"Gah!" he nearly jumped at Quinn's question– she had a knack for sneaking up on people. Matteo let out a sigh, before saying, "nothing, I was just looking at the sky."

"Wanna play tag?" she asked, ignoring his answer.

But he didn't care, since he was far too happy with himself to take any offense from a child.

"Sure, why not."

Matteo grinned. For he was a goddamn magical mutant.

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