....
...
...
GASP!!!!
The glaring light shined upon Adam's face. "Aahhgg F*CK". He frantically covered his eyes
"My eyes!!, agghh shit". He groaned.
Adam sat up rubbing his stinging eyes. "Ugghh, where am I ?". He muttered to himself. He looked around and saw nothing but trees. 'Where the hell am I ?'. he thought. Suddenly out of nowhere, an object struck his head. ''Aaghh SHIT!!, what was that?''. He looked down and saw a baseball.
Just as he picked it up, a child's voice followed. ''Hey mister can I have that back''. He looked behind him and saw a kid with a glove looking at the baseball in his hand. Adam tossed the ball to him and the kid ran back where he came from.
Adam stood up brushing his pants and shirt, muttering to himself. ''I'm gonna kill Danny''. He walked in the direction he saw the kid go and saw the kid throwing the ball to a slightly older kid holding a bat. 'Maybe his brother, I'm surprised kids in this day and age come out and play like this anymore'. His sister's kids are always on their phones or playstation.
Suddenly a sharp pain pulsed through Adam's head. ''Ugh...my head, I'm never drinking again''. He blinked through the pain, eyes darting around, when his gaze fell on a steel bench. He staggered toward it and sat down with his hand between his eyebrows, gently rubbing his forehead.'' Ughhhh...''.
He groaned and muttered again how he is going to kill Danny and the others and how he is never going to drink again.
Beside him, an older man folded the corner of his newspaper down and glanced over. "You alright, son?" the man asked and continued. ''Looks like you hit the tequila a little early there''.
He glanced sideways at the old man, managing a weak smile. ''Just a hangover'' he muttered, rubbing his eyes. The man gave a small nod, folding his newspaper on his lap. ''I figured'' he said. Then, after a pause, he held out a small paper cup with a flask. ''Here. It's decaf, but it might help a little.'' Adam hesitated for a second before taking it. ''Thanks'' he said, lifting the cup and sipping. It was lukewarm, bitter, but oddly comforting.
''Don't mention it'' the man replied, eyes back on the paper. ''Must have been quite a party,'' he said, nodding toward Adam. ''Waking up in the middle of the park and all.'' Adam turned towards the old man, offering the coffee back. ''How did you know I woke up here?''
The old man shook his head refusing the cup. ''You drink the rest, it looks like you need it more than me and for your question, I've been sitting here for an hour and I just saw you walking out of those bushes''.
Adam chuckled awkwardly. ''Yeah, I don't remember anything after getting wasted and waking up here maybe a prank by my buddies''. The old man also chuckled and asked Adam. ''How old are you son?''.
''27''. Adam replied. ''What,'' the old man surprised ''Even at the age where you should get serious, your buddies are playing pranks like this. Back in my day, our pranks were limited to real and dummy grenades''. The old man continued blabbering about his golden days.
After a few minutes, Adam's headache subsided and stood up ''Hoo, all good ,hey thanks for the coffee man and one question, where are we?''.
The old man looked strangely at Adam and replied. ''Woah, you need to tell me what you guys were drinking. I mean how do you forget this park.''
"What do you mean". Adam frowned. ''This is the Central Park.''. The old man replied. For a moment Adam froze and stared at the man. His eyes darted around — the trees, the skyline peeking through the leaves, the distant hum of traffic. How the hell did he end up in Manhattan?
'What the fuck, how long was I out for. It takes at least 5 days from Denver to reach Manhattan'. Adam thought. ''Hey man, what day is it today?'' He asked the old man.
"Tuesday". The old man looked strangely at Adam. "No, I meant the date". Adam asked again. ''May 3, 2008''. The old man, squinting at him. Adam's stomach turned. A cold weight settled in his chest. No. That couldn't be right. His jaw clenched. He looks at the newspaper in the old man's hand. 'It's TRUE!!'.Adam in shock looking at the date.
The date kept repeating in his mind like a warning bell. He mumbled a distracted "thanks," already stepping away. Then he turned and walked quickly. He walked fast, barely registering the people passing by or the chatter of the park behind him. His hand instinctively went to his pockets—jacket, pants—searching for his phone. Nothing.
He stopped for a second, patting himself down more carefully. Still no phone. But his wallet was there. He flipped it open—inside were a few hundred-dollar bills and some loose quarters. Five, maybe six hundred total. Enough to get by for now.
He crossed the street, scanning for something familiar, anything that made sense. And then he saw it.
A phone booth.
He slowed. For a second, he just stared at it. A payphone? He hadn't seen one of those in years. Not a real one, anyway. They'd been gone by... what, 2016? Maybe even earlier in some cities. The date echoed in his mind again.
May 3rd, 2008.
And now—this.
A cold, creeping certainty began to settle in his gut.
Maybe this really was 2008.
Adam stared at the row of payphones like they were props from a movie set. He stepped up to one and picked up the phone. The dial tone buzzed steadily in his ear. He pulled a few quarters from his wallet and dropped them into the slot. Then, with fingers moving from memory, he dialled his mom's number.
It rang Once.
Twice.
Then
''Hello?'' A young woman's voice.
"Mom?" he asked without thinking. A beat of silence. Then a faint laugh. "Uh… I'm not your mom. I'm not even married yet. You may have the wrong number"
Adam blinked.
''This isn't Sarah Grant's number?''
''No idea who that is. You must've misdialed or something.''
Click.
Adam stood still, the phone pressed to his ear as silence settled in. Maybe he got one number wrong. Just one digit. Maybe. He tried again, carefully entering the number.
''We're sorry. The number you have dialled is not in service. Please check the number and try again.''
Another try. His dad's line this time.
''We're sorry. The number you have dialled is not in service. Please check the number and try again.''
Adam exhaled through his nose, trying to fight the creeping panic. He rubbed his temple and tried to recall someone else. A friend. Roommate. Anyone. Nothing came.
He hadn't memorized a number in years. Not since everything lived in contacts and cloud sync.
He stood there frozen, phone in hand, clutching a truth he didn't want to name.
This wasn't a prank. This wasn't his time.
This was 2008.
And he had no one to call.
...….
...…
As Adam walked further from the park, still dazed, car horns, vendors shouting, footsteps blurring into noise. Then he stopped.
A row of televisions glowed behind the dusty glass of an old electronics store. Dozens of them, stacked in a cluttered display, all playing the same news feed. He can't hear anything. But the headlines were enough.
"BREAKING: Tony Stark Missing in Afghanistan"
"Stark Industries CEO Presumed Kidnapped During Military Test"
"U.S. Confirms Ambush Outside Remote Base"
Footage rolled silently: stock clips of armoured vehicles, sand-blown roads, photos of RDJ in a black suit flashing between frames. Adam stepped closer, squinting through the glass.
'No way. This… this was the first Iron Man movie.' He thought. Except this wasn't a trailer. This was real. On the news. And suddenly, everything clicked — the phone booths, the bills in his wallet, the looks people gave him, the old man's newspaper date.
He took a step back from the window, heart pounding, mind racing. If this really was the world he thought it was… he was already running out of time.
He wasn't just in 2008.
He was in Marvel's 2008.
...
I apologise to my previous readers. I know I'm late but I had a lot going on in my life, that I couldn't just ignore. And I almost gave up on writing this anymore, But in a way this time has given me a lot To think about how I want this story to go, and in my opinion, this time has helped a lot.
I will also be, including an auxiliary chapter, where I will explain his powers, the way he unlocks his powers, and the way it works, because I won't be, including it in the stories, so it doesn't remove the immersing element.
Chapter publishing will be very slow. It's because I have a lot of work to complete and a lot of my personal projects and my studies. As this is also interfering with it, but as this is a hobby and as stress relief, I'm putting myself through this so that I don't go overboard and overload my brain with stuff. So maybe 1 chapter a week. And sometimes a bonus chapter will also be published.
As this is also my first work, there is bound to be mistakes. So if u could point out those I can make sure it won't happen in further chapters
And I will also be starting a patreon account. It won't be active immediately.
So don't worry.