As James was awaiting his new body, in the Marvel universe, all around the globe people tuned into their favorite streams of ASTIR’s new game. 

Within just a few hours, the reveal of an early access had already supplanted the content reporting about the recent alien invasion on more than 50% of all news channels, something that had come as quite the shock when they’d looked at the ratings. Turns out people would much rather bury their heads in the sand than face the harsh reality of the world and ASTIR was apparently not above capitalizing on that fact. 

The world governments, primarily heralded by the United States, were more than satisfied with such a situation and quickly passed down orders to their local broadcasters to follow the trend. They knew it wouldn’t last for long and that, by the end of the day, they’d be back to covering the disaster that had taken place in New York, but right now they would take all the help they could get. 

To the surprise of many, by the time noon came rolling around, the most popular streamer by far was one who’d spent the bulk of his online career primarily appealing to the disabled community. As a long-term blind man, he’d adapted incredibly well to regaining his eyesight in Halo just weeks prior and had since gone on to grow an avid following with his impressive gameplay.

Being one of the few streamers wise enough to heed ASTIR’s warnings, he’d earned himself an early access pass and was making the most of it to grow his fanbase. 

•••••••••••

Matt took in a deep breath of the countryside air through the lungs of Geralt, the character he’d been inhabiting for the last two hours. Closing the door behind him, he stepped out of the tavern and looked up at the bright blue sky as he once again marveled at the beauty of this world.

Sure it had been a rough going at first, what with starting out by exposing himself to his entire livestream when getting out of the bathtub he’d found himself in and all the comments he’d had to block at the sight of the, admittedly, most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, equally naked as him. He wasn’t much of an extrovert as his former profession might’ve implied and had it not been for the memory implantations of Geralt, he might have just ended the stream then and there out of embarrassment. 

He still blushed at remembering the comments his viewers had made when the woman, Yennefer he now knew her as, pulled him into a searing kiss. 

As it was though, the flashback sequence had done a fine job introducing him to the various oddities in this new world. He’d gotten accustomed to his new body (which had surprisingly better senses than his own), got a feel of what he believed to be the main characters, and learned a bit of backstory of this game. 

His stream obviously loved it, if the increasingly high number of donations had anything to say about it. In fact, if they hadn’t eventually urged him to move on, he might’ve ended up spending the entirety of his limited playtime just reading up on the books in Vesemir’s library. 

That wasn’t even mentioning the Griffon he’d had to fight on the way to town. He’d had to shut off the live chat after that one, as they’d almost gotten him killed with they’re constant interruptions. Like he’d experienced in Halo, the longer he spent in the body of a game character, the more their thoughts synchronized and the Geralt memories couldn’t stand the constant chatter any better than him. 

Breaking out of his revelry, Matt looked down from the cloudless sky, only to be accosted by three local drunkards. No doubt they didn’t very much appreciate his kind, as he’d learned many shared the sentiment. 

“Done drinkin?” one of them slurred as they approached. 

Matt hummed in acknowledgement with his new, much raspier voice, not caring much for their posturing.

“Then fuck off,” the drunkard predictably replied.

*Hrrk-ptoo!* 

“Don’t want your kind here,” another of the men said after spitting in disgust. This one was quite a bit more bulky than the first and seemed proud of that fact, if his open vest and highly tattooed chest were any indication.

After having grown up in Hell’s Kitchen, Matt knew a shakedown when he saw one and wasn’t much inclined to stand down back home, let alone in a video game. So, feeling eager to have another go with this amazing body of his, he spat out the first thing that came to mind that he knew would piss them off, “Three against one? My, you’re brave.”

Seeing the anger that flushed across their faces and not seeing the point in allowing them to respond, Matt sent out one of the few pieces of magic he’d gotten a good feel of these last few hours, Aard.

He thrust out his right arm and a triangular shape briefly flashed in his palm, before a wide cone of telekinetic force rushed towards his would-be attackers. 

“Fuck!” the man in the middle of the trio cried as he was flung back with wide eyes. “The freak’s got magic!”

Matt grinned and he could practically hear his chat egging him on as he stepped forward and launched a hard kick into the first man’s chin, knocking him out instantly. 

“Shit! Charge the fucker!” 

He flashed a feral grin as the other two did just that and readied his fists for the incoming brawl. He knew this was no place for the two swords draped across his back and Matt was more comfortable unarmed anyways. 

“RAHH!” the shirtless one roared as he came in swinging. 

He ducked beneath the blow with practiced ease and delivered a swift jab to the man’s kidney. His mutant senses picked up on the other’s fist flying for the back of his head, so he dropped into a crouch and sent a spinning kick to his side, taking out his attacker’s legs. 

The man dropped like a rock and now that they were on the same level, Matt smirked as he threw out a strong punch to the man’s face, producing an audible crack. 

“ARGHH!” the man screamed. “You broke my fucking nose!”

“Heh,” Matt chuckled, “that should ensure you don’t go sticking it in other’s business.”

“AHH! I’ll kill you, you freak!”

Matt ducked another blow before jumping up to his feet. He sent a donkey kick backwards to ensure the nose he broke remained that way for a long time, before dropping the same leg like a hammer and knocking the bastard out. 

By now, the bare-chested man had noticed his two friends dead in the dirt, out cold, and began backing up warily. 

Seeing this, Matt smirked as he felt the Geralt half of him become increasingly satisfied. The synchronization was rising at an ever higher rate with his actions and would no doubt be nearly complete with a few more fights such as this one. 

“What? Not so brave now?” Matt mocked as he stalked towards the man with a taunting smirk. 

“G-get back! Y-y-you freak!” 

“Hmm,” he hummed while cracking his neck to the side. “No, I don’t think I will.”

Matt knelt down and grabbed the tattooed man by his vest, before throwing one last punch to his face and knocking him out for good. Standing up, he inspected the scene of the short brawl, wiped the filth off his knuckles, and turned to leave, satisfied with his work. 

Before he could get more than a few steps however, his instincts blared and he froze. 

*Clap, clap, clap.*

“Well done, Geralt,” came a voice from behind that sent an imperceptible shudder through his bones. “I see you haven’t changed a bit.”

Matt turned around slowly while fighting the urge to reach for his swords. Meeting the man’s dark eyes, he recognized him as one who’d been sitting down in the tavern, but had no clue who he was exactly. 

“Do I know you?” he asked while holding a wary gaze. 

This only served to cause the man to grin, an unnatural and downright creepy sight to be sure. 

“Oh? Did you forget about little old me? I did hear of you lumbering around for a bit with no memory, but to think it would cause you to forget this handsome mug of mine,” the man laughed and Matt could feel the Geralt half within screaming of danger. 

The man hopped out through the window he’d been leaning on and gave a mock bow, “Well, allow me to reintroduce myself then. My name, is Gaunter O’Dimm.”