Marvel: I can turn into anything.

The blaring of an alarm tore through the silence of the morning, causing Lusborn to stir in his sleep.

With a groggy frustration, he lazily lifted his hand and slapped the alarm clock silent without even opening his eyes. 

A deep, tired groan escaped his lips as he rolled over in bed, sinking back into the warmth of the blankets. This was strange.

For as long as he could remember, Lusborn had always been an early riser.

His previous life as a stuntman had ingrained a strict routine into his body—a routine that included waking up at the crack of dawn for rigorous training.

Yet, right now, he felt overwhelmingly drowsy, as if his body simply refused to wake up.

It was unusual, even unsettling, but he figured this was just another thing about his new life that he'd have to get used to.

But for now, he allowed himself the indulgence of sleep once more, his body sinking deeper into the mattress.

The next time he woke up, the sun was shining through his window, casting a soft glow across his room. He groggily sat up and glanced at the alarm clock. 9:00 AM.

Stretching, he yawned and swung his legs off the bed, his bare feet touching the cool floor.

He needed to shake off this sluggishness.

For someone who was used to intense workouts and dangerous stunts, feeling this weak and lethargic was frustrating.

But he'd deal with that later. For now, hygiene was the priority.

After all this was one of the things he could never ignore, hygiene was a must for him.

Dragging himself into the bathroom, he went through his morning routine with robotic precision.

He brushed his teeth thoroughly, ensuring no spot was missed, then stripped and stepped into the shower.

As the warm water cascaded down his body, he felt a little more awake, a little more like himself.

Hygiene was something he strictly maintained in his past life, and it was one thing that wasn't going to change in this one.

Once done, he grabbed a towel and began drying himself, making his way toward the mirror. It was only then that he finally took the time to really look at himself.

He had to admit, his new face wasn't bad. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

He was undeniably handsome, though in a way that leaned toward a softer, more intellectual appearance rather than the rugged, muscular physique he was used to.

His lean frame lacked any muscle definition, making him look more like a nerd than the battle-hardened stuntman he once was.

Comparing his new body to his old one was almost depressing.

Before, he had trained his body to near perfection, his muscles sculpted by years of physical exertion. But now? This body was weak.

No wonder he had struggled to maintain his transformation yesterday.

His physique was simply too fragile to handle the strain of turning into powerful beings like the Hulk.

And that was something he needed to change immediately.

His gaze flickered to his reflection once more, and he sighed.

"Guess I've got my work cut out for me," he muttered, running a hand through his damp hair.

But before he started making plans to rebuild his strength, there was something he needed to test.

His powers. Specifically, their limitations.

He had no real information about his ability except the little explanation from his temporary system and his previous two transformations.

And what he wanted now more than anything was to be powerful enough so as not be affected by some small time incidents like the first Avengers battle in New Yolk.

He wanted to live his life peacefully, but there was no such thing in Marvel without having real power.

Closing his eyes, he focused on his ability, mentally willing his body to shift.

A tingling sensation spread through him, and in an instant, he felt himself shrink.

His bones compressed, his skin darkened into soft feathers, and his vision sharpened.

Opening his eyes, he fluttered his tiny wings and realized he had successfully transformed into a sparrow.

He perched himself on the sink, tilting his small avian head as he took in his new perspective.

The transformation had been effortless, instant and seamless, but more importantly, he felt no strain at all.

He could probably maintain this form for hours without feeling fatigued, maybe eve a whole day and more.

Satisfied with the results, he focused once again and transformed back into his human form. He stood in front of the mirror, nodding to himself.

"Alright. So normal creatures are easy," he mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

But what about creatures that weren't normal? What about something that wasn't entirely organic?

He recalled the explanation the system had given him—it stated that he could turn into any organism, known or unknown, as long as it wasn't human.

That meant animals, supernatural beings, and even fictional creatures were all fair game.

But what about cybernetic organisms?

Deciding to test his theory, he focused once again, this time attempting to transform into Cyborg from DC Comics.

He had no intention of actually using Cyborg's strength or abilities; he simply wanted to see if the transformation was even possible.

Plus he knew this kind of transformation was too powerful for his current body, but he wanted to try anyway.

He concentrated, waiting for the familiar sensation of his body shifting.

Seconds passed.

Nothing happened.

He frowned and tried again, putting more effort into it this time. Still, nothing. It was as if his ability was completely rejecting the transformation.

Lusborn exhaled sharply, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

"So I can't transform into cybernetic beings… interesting."

This confirmed one thing—his transformations had to be purely organic. No tech-based creatures, no androids, no robots. It had to be something with natural biology.

That was useful information.

It also meant he needed to focus on strengthening himself physically because if his body couldn't handle the strain of turning into supernatural beings, then he was going to have a problem. 

Something he didn't want.

His mind raced with possibilities, but for now, he had the answers he needed. It was time to start training.

Because if he wanted to survive in this world, he needed to be stronger. Much, much stronger.

Plus he could not always depend on his mutant gene, because as far as he knew, it could be inhibited.

He needed to have real damn power, one that had no attachments.