My name is John ( no clue)

John had been counting down the days since he first saw the ad. It had popped up while he was scrolling late at night something about a “new kind of comic convention” with exclusive experiences, private fittings, and costumes drawn from every major superhero universe. The photos were slick, the copy vague in a way that only made him more curious. He bought a ticket the same night.

When he arrived, the line outside the convention center was already enormous. It stretched along the sidewalk and around the corner, a slow-moving river of people in graphic tees, half-finished cosplay pieces, and overloaded tote bags. John shifted his weight from foot to foot, earbuds in, trying not to look as excited as he felt. He’d been to regular cons before, but something about the size of this one and the way security was scanning wristbands at the door with unusual care made it feel different.

He’d been waiting almost an hour when a woman stepped out of the flow of the line and stopped in front of him. She was striking: long dark hair pulled back, a fitted black staff shirt, and an easy, professional smile. She held a tablet against her hip.

“Hi there,” she said. “Is this your first time coming to the convention?”

John pulled one earbud out and nodded, suddenly aware of how warm his face felt. “Yeah. It is.”

For a second he just looked at her. She was beautiful in a clean, sharp way high cheekbones, clear eyes, the kind of presence that made the rest of the crowd blur for a moment. She noticed his pause and her smile softened, like she was used to it.

“Then you’ll need to pick a costume from our list,” she explained, angling the tablet toward him. “We’re running a special for first-timers. You choose a fandom Marvel, DC, whatever you want and we’ll pull a random costume for you. Private changing booth. No extra charge.”

John’s attention snapped fully to the screen. The interface was simple: a grid of logos, a few short questions, a big “Randomize” button. His excitement surged so fast he almost laughed.

“Seriously? Like, actual costumes?”

“Actual costumes,” she confirmed. “Some of them are pretty involved. You’ll know when you’re done.”

He took the tablet without hesitation, thumb already hovering over the DC and Marvel options. The woman waited patiently while he scrolled, her posture relaxed, like she’d watched this exact reaction a dozen times already today. John selected both universes, left the randomizer on, and hit submit. A soft chime sounded from the tablet.

She glanced at the confirmation, then nodded toward a side entrance just past the main doors.

“Perfect. Follow me. Your booth is ready.”

John fell in behind her, heart beating faster than the short walk should have justified. The side hallway was quieter, lined with tall glass booths. Most were empty. She stopped at one, tapped something on her tablet, and the door unlocked with a quiet click.

“Step inside,” she said. “The process starts as soon as the door seals. Enjoy the con.”

John stepped in. The booth was plain white walls, a low bench, a vent near the floor. The door closed behind him. For a moment he just stood there, still smiling, already imagining whatever costume the system was about to give him.

Then the vent opened and cool pink gas began to rise around his ankles.