RYANTHEGHOST

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 278 - Into the Red (II)

Thin sunlight drifted through a dusty pink sky, soft and distant as it met the cold, dry air. Faint winds moved across the ground in slow sweeps, lifting ribbons of red dust that twisted and settled with quiet ease.  Everywhere in sight, the landscape looked washed out under the pale sun, and distant horizons blurred slightly in the ever-present haze.

Crouching down, Maverick scooped up a handful of dry, orange sand, the grains tapping lightly against the reinforced gloves of his suit as he tested the texture. There wasn’t anything remarkable about it. Through the layers of composite fabric, it felt like… well, sand.

Letting the loose grit fall back to the ground, he pushed himself upright, his eyes sweeping over the endless expanse before him. The land stretched in muted silence, a vast plain of rocky terrain interrupted by shallow ridges and patches of cracked soil.

Small stones littered the surface like shards of broken pottery, each coated in the familiar burnt-orange hue. In the distance, rounded hills rose gently, sculpted by ancient winds rather than water, their forms glowing softly in shades of red. The silence was absolute. No birds chirped here, no leaves rustled, nothing stirred, save for the faint hiss of the thin wind sliding past him.

"Caeser..."

"Caeser!"

Before his transmigration, he had seen Mars through NASA’s rover footage, crisp and clear on a screen. The scenes were accurate, but a screen could never replicate the sensation of being here. The orange-red hue clung to every surface, as if the world itself wore a permanent filter.

"CAESER!"

When he finally reached the coordinates blinking on his retina, he had first lingered, letting the full scope of the scene register in his head. Of course, he had seen many incredible, extraordinary things ever since his transmigration, but still, this was a moment to be remembered, and not exactly for the sight before him, but for the journey that had brought him here, which had spanned millions of miles and countless days.

If only his communicator would stop buzzing and spared him a moment. He exhaled, the sound escaping like a small cloud inside his helmet. "I can hear you, Howard."

"Why aren’t you responding? Never mind that. How do you feel?" Howard’s voice poured through the comm in an unstoppable rush of questions. If anything, Howard, despite being all the way back on Earth, sounded far more excited than he felt.

"What could possibly be wrong with me?" Maverick almost rolled his eyes before directing a question to the only alien on the other end of the line. "Norex, is this the correct location for our first base?"

He stood at the spot blinking on his helmet’s display. The area around him was wide and flat enough, free of hills or mountains, and there were no signs of sandstorms anywhere in sight.

"Yes. Based on the data, that is the best possible location for setting up a base, taking all variables into account."

"Good." Hearing the confirmation, Maverick nodded, a faint smile crossing his lips. "Have everyone who wants to visit Mars today put on the gear and head to the containment room. Once they’re ready, just let me know."

The next thing he heard was a frenzy of excited voices, and he couldn’t help shaking his head, letting out a chuckle. After all, what scientist on Earth, or rather, who on Earth, would not want to step onto another planet if given the chance? In any case, this was simply to give everyone a taste of standing on the Red Planet’s surface, walking around a bit, and satisfying the curiosity of their inner child.

While the others prepared themselves, Maverick continued his inspection. Rising above the ground once again, he flew higher, reaching about half a kilometer, and pushed his magic to the limit, spreading his senses through a third eye to observe the region. Who knows, he might stumble onto something unexpected.

Well, he didn’t. Figures. Sand, rocks, and more sand stretched for miles. On the bright side, though, he didn’t notice anything unusual while channelling his magic. The ambient magic, it seems, is like a universal force, similar to cosmic energy that is present everywhere. It was a little thin, sure, but still there.

That means factors such as the presence of life or anything similar do not determine whether magic exists or can be channelled. Well, that’s still a hypothesis, something for the alchemists to research while they are here.

Back on the ground again, this time he directed his magic beneath the surface instead of around him, simply on a whim. The comms remained silent, and his team was busy rushing into their suits, so in the meantime, he had nothing to do, and his actions were just a passing curiosity with no real expectations.

However, not a moment later, after his magic probed beneath the soil, his eyes lit up, and, “fuck,” he couldn’t help but curse aloud. Subsequently, almost by instinct, his arms sank to the ground, palms pressing firmly against the soil.

In his excitement, he didn’t care how much magic he was unleashing. The rocks and dirt around him had even begun to levitate, as if gravity itself were faltering. His vast, endless ocean of magic surged outward like a flood rushing underground, and the deeper it spread, the wider his eyes grew in disbelief.

Water. There was no mistaking it. Absolutely, there was a large reservoir of water directly below. A little deeper, but it was there, about a hundred meters under him.

"Hang on, boss man, we’re almost ready." Maybe it was the curse he let slip into the open comms, but not long after, Howard’s voice rang inside his helmet.

"No, Howard. Everyone!” he replied excitedly. “There’s water! Underground! I found water underground!"

A moment of silence stretched, and he didn’t get an immediate response. For a heartbeat, he thought the other end hadn’t received the message, and just as he was about to repeat himself, someone finally exclaimed from the other side:

"You… you’re not joking, right?"

"Wait… no, how sure are you, boss?"

"Mr. Caesar, how far down is it? How did you even find it?"

One by one, more scientists joined the comms, each voice alive with the same excitement. Why wouldn’t they be excited? It hadn’t even been an hour, and already they were hearing that water had been discovered on Mars, something that had only ever been speculated and never confirmed.

"With my magic," Maverick responded, rolling his eyes at the obvious. "How much longer are you guys going to take?"

"A few minutes, boss man. Everyone wants to go. Everyone," Howard emphasized. He, too, sounded just as eager as the rest..

"Okay. Just give me a heads-up once everyone’s ready." He wasn’t surprised at their enthusiasm. As long as there were enough suits in the lab for everyone to gear up, it was fine. Besides, the portal didn’t cost him anything—it was like opening a door, and voilà, welcome to Mars.

In the meantime, he got back to his feet, glanced around, and opened a portal once again, transferring himself to a point far away, as far as his eyes could reach. Curiosity bubbled inside him—he had to know. Was it just a little? Was it only there? Could there be more than one?

Once again, he crouched, pressed his palms to the ground, and probed. His smile grew wider. It was a little deeper here, but regardless, he detected water underground again. And it wasn’t just a small pocket, it was a vast reservoir, just like the first point he had checked.

Even though his magical sense couldn’t spread underground as widely as it did in open air, he could still detect a range of at least a thousand meters below, through rock and soil. What excited him most was that, at the end of his probe, the reservoir was still there, meaning it extended far deeper than his magical sense could reach.

He wanted to keep checking, but after getting to his feet, he let the exhilaration wash over him first. Later, he thought, suppressing the urge. There would be plenty of time. Besides, this was only the beginning.

Once the base was up and research underway, his team could fan out across the planet. Some adjustments to the overall plan were inevitable now that water was confirmed, but they were all heading in a positive direction nonetheless. Previously, locating water had been a task on the list, but that section could now be removed. Resources would naturally be redirected toward other priorities—determining how much water was in this reservoir, whether others existed in different locations, and whether their chemical compositions matched. All good news, and the mission had barely even begun.

As for starting to build the base and how it would be done, that had long been discussed and even set into motion. Having surfaced on the planet, he could now come and go at will, bringing in and taking out anything he needed.

Why haul bricks one by one when he could transport entire pre-built sections and put together a base like a massive Lego creation? The plan was to have sections of the base completed in portions on Earth first, then transport and connect them, much like how the ISS was expanded. Of course, this included bringing along the necessary machinery to operate such a large-scale project.

The first structures planned for completion were a decent-sized living space, a storage area, and a small research center, which shouldn’t take much time. The entire base of operations, on the other hand, would be a gradual process, estimated to take perhaps a year. Meanwhile, a team would always be stationed here, rotated periodically, of course.

Today, though, everyone was coming here simply to satisfy their inner curiosity, indulging the childish thrill of walking on the surface of another planet.

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 277 - Into the Red (I)

"It's not the deep red I was expecting..."

"It's more like a muted orange-red or butterscotch… What made you think it would be straight red?"

"I mean... people keep calling it that. Whatever, forget it. Is the center-most feed running in real time?"

London, deep underground at the Mars mission lab or the headquarters or simply mission control. Maverick never really bothers naming his underground bases, he just calls them this or that location.

The atmosphere here was especially lively today. People in white coats moved between stations with quick steps and hushed voices, their eyes flicking from papers to glowing screens.

One wall held a wide monitor that covered nearly the entire surface, divided into several live feeds, each one showing a different angle in and from the spacepod as it drifted into the red planet’s orbital region.

Beneath it, a long row of control units hummed with steady lights and flickering buttons, while other consoles filled the room in neat clusters, each one manned by someone adjusting dials or tapping keys as telemetry streamed in.

The control room itself was built on a single wide floor, and a short metal staircase on both sides led up to a raised platform that felt almost like a stage created for oversight.

From there, anyone standing at the railing could see the entire room and every feed running at once. At this moment Maverick, Norex, Bucky, Howard and his wife stood among several other scientists and alchemists, some watching in silence and others commenting softly as the controlled chaos unfolded below them.

The reason for everyone gathering here was obvious. Today, if everything went according to plan, could become the day their long quest reached its turning point, the day they finally surfaced the mysterious world.

"Yes, the camera with the quantum entanglement tech we installed last week on the spaceship has its feed up on the center screen," Howard said, nodding without taking his eyes off the display. "The rest of the feeds are running about ten minutes behind..."

"Mars isn’t exactly close to Earth right now, but it isn’t at its farthest either," Norex chimed in. "Using standard Earth technology, the delay would be anywhere from four to twenty minutes, depending on the planets’ positions."

"Quantum entanglement research is our main focus at the moment, sir," another man in a lab coat said. "It will give us reliable, near-instant communication and allow us to track the mission in real time. Over the long term, it should save a significant amount of time."

"I don’t mind," Maverick nodded without looking. "Just don’t put the entire team on a single project. If you need extra manpower for it, let me know."

"It won’t take long," Howard said. "With Norex on board, we should have this technology under control in no time." He glanced briefly at Maverick and added, "I can’t help but wonder if the world is ready for this technology."

"No," Maverick interjected firmly. "Not yet. It’s far too soon to share such groundbreaking technology with the world. They’re barely entering the age of information technology." His expression turned thoughtful. "In ten years, maybe twenty, then I won’t mind. Until then, any technology we study from the Kree and Norex stays with us."

Earth’s communication tech, or data transmission, basically runs at the speed of light. That’s not slow by any means within the planet, but beyond it, when distances stretch from tens of thousands of kilometers to millions or even billions, the delays start adding up fast. Even a message between the Moon and Earth isn’t instantaneous, let alone one traveling to a whole other planet.

Quantum entanglement, on the other hand, lets information jump instantly across any distance. If the latest Earth tech was like sending a letter through the mail, entanglement was like whispering into someone’s ear on the other side of the solar system, and they would hear it the instant you spoke.

Of course, quantum entanglement technology is not just for faster communication. The reason Maverick was not willing to share it, at least not right now, was simply because most of the leadership on the planet was stupid and shortsighted. He had no doubt that the first thing they would do is try to weaponize it, turning a scientific breakthrough into a tool for destruction.

On top of that, the biggest reason was that sharing the technology now would completely alter the course of technological evolution across the entire world. It could accelerate progress by decades or even hundreds of years, and as a result, he would effectively lose the advantage of his future knowledge.

"Fine, fine, you’re the one paying the bills. The tech stays with us," Howard said, waving his hand.

The people working here were carefully selected, including both muggles and magicals, and Maverick had, more or less, some trust that they would not be tempted to go against his instructions for greed or any other reason.

And even if some idiot were to, say, plan to go against his orders, they could not. It was not just trust or a paper contract that gave him confidence, and he was not stupid enough to leave everything to just that either. For a mage of his caliber, he had more than enough ways to ensure their tongues stayed restrained. Call it cruel or tyranny—he did not care.

They were not here by force, but of their own free will, having acknowledged the terms. On top of that, the benefits he offered were far better than anything they could find elsewhere. Not to mention, they were part of history, researching and participating in something as groundbreaking as literally reshaping the structure of a planet.

"Anyway, from that distance, are you able to do your thing?" Howard asked again.

"How far away is it still?"

Howard, with a hand on his chin, made a thoughtful expression and hummed. "Further than the distance the ISS orbits Earth."

"Actually, it’s about three times that distance," another scientist added.

"Then it should be fine," Maverick said, nodding, and then turned to Norex. "Is the suit ready?"

"Yes. I’ve modified the communication systems, upgraded the suit’s durability, and added the settings you requested. It can handle any region of the red planet’s surface, including its harshest weather conditions and the freezing poles."

"Good…" A smile crossed Maverick’s face. "Then let’s not waste time."

A few minutes later, he stood inside a small, sealed room, wearing the gear Norex had made. The spacesuit was basically the Kree uniform with some upgrades, and of course, the look had been altered to better fit his… cough... particular tastes.

Sleek, all black, and absolutely not a cape trailing behind him.

It might look simple at first glance, but it held a ton of technology beneath the surface and could be used for multiple purposes, not just as a spacesuit. Close combat was entirely possible, and wearing it felt surprisingly comfortable. It was strong, equipped with a breathing system, a communication system, a holographic interface, and basically packed with advanced tech throughout.

"Room is sealed. You may open the portal, boss man," Howard’s voice rang out inside the room.

The purpose of the contained space is simple: safety. When the portal opens, it essentially connects the atmospheres of two planets, and hazardous gases containing who knows what from Mars would undoubtedly flow in. The control room’s containment system prevents the rest of the lab from being flooded with all that nasty stuff until it is neutralized.

First, though, he didn’t open a portal directly to Mars. He couldn’t, not yet. His hands moved, and the portal first connected to the inside of the spacecraft, and he stepped through. Once inside, the portal closed behind him, and he walked to the ship’s front, finally seeing the red planet up close for the first time.

It looked… breathtaking, for lack of a better word, and he couldn’t help but smile. Not because Mars was beautiful, its red dust and jagged terrain could never match Earth’s blue and green, at least not yet. The smile came simply because this was the place, this was the moment where his plans and his ambition would truly begin.

"This is mission control. Boss man, do you read?" Howard’s voice echoed inside the suit’s helmet.

"I can. Is the body camera feed running okay?"

"Clear as day," Howard answered.

"I’ve sent the coordinates marking the best spot to surface," Norex’s voice followed. "The pod is directly above the location, the Elysium Planitia region, as you humans named it. It is a flat surface surrounded by rocky mountains on all sides and is less likely to encounter severe weather."

Yes, Mars does have storms, and that factor had to be considered before establishing a base. However, the storms on the red planet are very different from those on Earth. There is no rain or lightning, since the atmosphere is extremely thin and dry, but dust storms and dramatic temperature swings make the weather just as harsh and dangerous for both equipment and humans.

Three regions were shortlisted as good candidates for the starting base, and Maverick’s team collectively voted for Elysium Planitia. It’s a very flat region, statistically calmer than many equatorial locations. Basically, there’s no place on Mars guaranteed to be “storm-free.” Global and regional dust storms can, at times, affect nearly the whole planet. That said, some areas have a much lower probability of dust-storm activity, and this region was one of them.

Hearing Howard and Norex’s instructions, Maverick’s eyes moved to the holographic display in front of his retina. A miniature map of the red planet appeared, with a blinking point indicating where he should go.

"Right then, the space pod will temporarily lose connection. I’m preparing to surface," Maverick spoke into the communicator, then, with a thought, he vanished from the spot and reappeared outside in space, beside the ship.

The plan was never about piloting the thing through the red planet’s atmosphere. That would be foolish when he had far better and more efficient means. So next, with a single, effortless motion, he made the not-so-large space pod vanish into his storage space.

The space pod had basically achieved its purpose at this point. Perhaps far, far in the future, it would end up displayed in some museum, who knows.

He then turned slowly, letting his gaze sweep across the red planet, taking in the vast, alien landscape that stretched endlessly before him.

The convenient thing about the Sling Ring portal was that so long as he could see, had seen, or had been to a place, he could open a portal directly there regardless of distance. He had traveled back and forth between the space pod and Earth many times now, and until now, no problem had occurred.

In the Avengers: Endgame movie, he remembered Doctor Stephen Strange opening a portal all the way from Titan, Thanos’s homeworld, which should be tens of thousands of light-years apart.

He had even vaguely asked the Sorcerer Supreme about the range of the Sling Ring portal. Her answer was simply: so long as one knows and has been to a place, the portal can connect—even across dimensions. Basically, the Sling Ring portal was an absurdly powerful spell.

Anyway, he would soon find out whether he could cross planets using the portal magic.

With a thought, his body moved closer to the planet, the extraordinary flight magic, replicated from the super broom, guiding him forward. About a quarter of an hour later, he felt the planet’s gravity beginning to pull him down, and he stopped.

He glanced from the holographic instructions displayed in his retina back to the planet, fixed on one spot, and guided his hands with careful intention. The familiar orange portal materialized again, and he stepped through without a second thought.

He emerged on the other side, hovering roughly ten thousand meters above the jagged red terrain. This was perhaps the first time in human history that someone from Earth had penetrated deep into the Martian atmosphere. Well, he pushed the thought aside—there was no one there to applaud, anyway.

Instead, he took a moment to digest the scene, the vast orange sky stretching endlessly above him and the rocky surface below looking both alien and astonishing.

"A bit off course, Mr. Caesar. Please follow the coordinates… the pointer is showing over your eye." instructions came through the communicator as he breathed in the alien air. Technically, he was wearing a helmet, but metaphorically, that was how it felt to him.

"Classical mechanics, boss man. Newton’s laws of motion…"

"I know the law of inertia, Howard. Shut up and let me focus," Maverick snapped, cutting the annoying bastard off. Sighing and brushing aside the feeling of taking in the moment, he focused between the instructions displayed on his retina and the planet’s surface again. From where he hovered, he could already make out landmarks on the ground below.

It was daytime in this region, but unlike Earth, the sky wasn’t bright blue. The thin CO₂ atmosphere and suspended iron-rich dust scattered sunlight differently. The overall effect was a muted, dusty hue, almost like a desert with a permanent haze.

Moments later, he gestured with his hands once more, and the portal appeared, connecting to a region far away but still within his sight.

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 276 - Rites of Liberation (III)

Slytherin’s Chamber of Secrets was, in truth, more of a library than anything else: books, books, and more books. In fact, it could hardly even be called Slytherin’s chamber, for the volumes stored here belonged to all four of the great warlocks. Each founder had a personal chamber of their own, preserving the magical knowledge they had gathered through their lives.

The only thing that truly marked this “secret chamber” as Slytherin’s was perhaps the enormous serpent that was the basilisk, and the damp, gloomy atmosphere that seemed to fit the man’s reputation perfectly. Otherwise, it might as well have been called the Hogwarts chamber of exceptionally rare books, guarded, of course, by an equally exceptional snake.

Back to the matter at hand, Slytherin’s private chamber was small and austere, much like the others, with only subtle differences in detail and perhaps in color. Its stone walls were lined with shelves packed to the brim with timeworn books.

To one side stood a wooden table of dark, polished oak, its surface worn smooth by time, with a half-melted candle burning quietly upon it, the flickering flame sending restless shadows dancing over the shelves and steeping the chamber in a solemn, reverent stillness. Well, that was the case a few hours ago. The chamber was now otherwise occupied by two men, one old and one young.

“This is really…” Commenting on what he had just read while closing an ancient-looking book, Maverick glanced at Dumbledore, who sat across from him, smiling knowingly as if expecting his reaction. “Profound knowledge, Headmaster.”

“Profound, yes.” Dumbledore nodded. “And dangerous. Magic that deals directly with the soul can be perilous if wielded by the wrong hands, of course.”

Yeah, no kidding, Maverick mused. The text covered everything from the creation of Horcruxes to the merging of shattered souls, written in such precise, almost scholarly detail that any ordinary witch or wizard would have deemed it forbidden magic on sight. And that was only scratching the surface of the bizarre and unsettling knowledge within.

Moreover, that was only one book. This was Salazar Slytherin’s personal library, filled with all kinds of knowledge most would rather burn than read. No wonder the man had such dark rumors around his name. In Muggle terms, he was exactly what they’d call a mad scientist.

There were even books here dissecting the three Unforgivable Curses, covering both attack and defense, and even Maverick had found new insights within them. It was worth noting that his understanding of the three Unforgivables was already at an advanced level, meaning the system had instilled in him profound comprehension that one might not find in any book.

In other words, as Dumbledore had said, the knowledge contained in this library could indeed be very dangerous in the wrong hands. Fortunately, old Voldy never discovered this true chamber within the Chamber of Secrets during his school days, or Maverick was certain the mad fool would have tried every ritual in these books that promised even the faintest taste of power.

“Is it the ritual of Anima Purificare that you performed today?” Putting the book down on the table and sliding it across, he asked after a moment of thought.

“Indeed.” Dumbledore waved his hand, and the book levitated, drifting to one of the shelves where it settled neatly into place. “That, and the rituals of Maledicta Vinculum and Tenebris Compressum.”

It had to be said, this old man was truly a genius. In fact, the rituals Dumbledore had performed weren’t even designed for removing a curse of demonic corruption. None of them were. It was the wise old man’s ingenuity to use them in a precise order that had, in the end, cured him completely—and perhaps even improved him.

“Wait a minute, Headmaster…” Maverick suddenly thought of something, and his eyes lit up. “Do you think that the same series of rituals could be used on Potter? To rid him of the parasite of Riddle’s soul?”

At his words, Dumbledore raised a brow, then fell into thought, leaning back in his chair. He rubbed his chin, mulling over the idea, while Maverick waited. After a while, his eyes seemed to gleam as he looked at Maverick. “Theoretically, yes.”

“Please explain, Headmaster. I’m not that knowledgeable in this particular branch of magic, you know.”

“It’s actually very simple.” Dumbledore leaned forward. “Young Harry—what do you think is the difference between the entity leeching his magic and the curse that parasitized my soul?”

“Horcrux?” Maverick answered with a thoughtful expression, then his eyes lit up. “Soul. It’s the soul.”

“Brilliant.” Dumbledore chuckled lightly. “How I wish you were a student here at Hogwarts, Professor.”

“Right, right. I’ve heard that too many times.” Maverick waved a hand dismissively.

Chuckling again, Dumbledore continued. “What’s parasitizing young Harry is a fragment of a mortal soul, while in my case, it was something else.” He raised one finger, as if lecturing a student. “Similar in some ways, but also different. What do you think would happen if the ritual were done on young Harry?”

Honestly, Maverick had no idea, and he didn’t try to act smart. “I don’t know.”

“Precisely,” said Dumbledore, leaning back again. “We don’t know. But that doesn’t mean it’s the end of the matter. Your suggestion, in fact, is theoretically quite sound. I shall research further to see if it can be made foolproof.”

Maverick nodded. Unless absolutely certain, he would not attempt it either. It could cure Harry and remove the parasitic fragment, but it could just as easily make things worse. Better to wait. Moreover, Harry wasn’t Dumbledore, and his composure and magical stability would be vastly different—factors that could affect the ritual’s outcome.

“Please do, Headmaster,” Maverick said solemnly. If Harry could rid himself of the parasitic soul before next year, then Maverick’s plans would become far more foolproof. A lot of uncertainties could be removed—or in other words, many risks cast aside. “If there’s anything you need—rare ingredients, components, anything you can’t find—let me know. I really want the kid to get better.”

Leaning back in his chair, smiling with that familiar twinkle in his eyes, and giving a look Maverick couldn’t quite read, Dumbledore nodded. “I shall do it regardless, Professor. Young Harry’s unfortunate situation…” he sighed melancholically, “and his family’s tragedy back then, are also partly my fault. I trusted the wrong people, or perhaps I was too overconfident. Either way, it is my responsibility.”

Looking at the old man’s expression, Maverick could tell he truly meant it. He wasn’t a schemer—well, maybe an old one—but he was definitely not the manipulative villain so many fanfictions in his past life had painted him to be. Knowing him this long, Maverick could at least deduce that much.

“Right then, let’s put this matter aside for now. You can rest assured I will devote my utmost effort to researching the ritual...” Dumbledore rose to his feet after a moment of silence. “Let us head back up for now.”

Maverick nodded and stood as well. “Will you be announcing your recovery to the world?”

Walking side by side out of the chamber, Dumbledore shook his head. “Not yet. I would appreciate it if you too, Professor, kept the matter between us for now.” Saying that, he raised his hand, and the tattered clothing that had once been draped over his arms materialized again beneath his sleeve.

What’s this old man thinking now? Maverick thought, but he didn’t dwell on it and simply shrugged. Whatever. “It’s your call, Headmaster,” he said.

---

A few days later, the Muggle Science classroom.

Inside, the air smelled faintly of metal and charred dust. Heavy oak tables stood in neat rows, two students sharing one, each equipped with simple glass beakers, small metal rods, and tiny open boxes filled with powders and crystals.

Today’s lesson focused on decomposition. Maverick rolled up his sleeves and scanned the classroom, watching the students dive into the work before them. Behind him, a single word was underlined twice in chalk: Electrolysis.

As with physics and biology, chemistry, of course, had its place in the Muggle science curriculum. And what better way to show just how fascinating it could be than with a simple electrolysis experiment, right? Moreover, it was one of his favourite subjects, and he had loved it even in his previous life.

“Macmillan, it’s supposed to be pale yellow, not that murky green.” He paused beside their table as he walked past. “And Parkinson, no magic… use the tools provided. Look carefully: green means too much salt. Clean the rod, correct it, and keep going.”

Moving on, he noticed the only redhead in the class looking up at him and came to a stop.  “Okay, Ronald, what’s bothering you?”

“Uh… Professor?” Ron cleared his throat, stealing a look at his partner before speaking. “I mean… is it really possible to, you know, make proper gold this way?” Clearly, some odd ideas had gone on between the two of them.

Maverick stared blankly for a moment, then looked at the beaker they were working on. “What you’re doing here, as I mentioned in the beginning, is coating, not creating. You’re depositing gold ions from the solution onto the rod. Basically, just painting. So don’t go having weird ideas.”

Ron sighed and nodded, returning to his work. His partner for today’s class was Susan Bones, a meticulous little witch. Their experiment, at least, showed no signs of error despite the odd question Ron had just asked, so Maverick didn’t linger and moved on to the next table.

A few tables down, another hand raised. Maverick approached Draco Malfoy and Hannah Abbott, who were frowning at their beaker. “Professor, why is ours all brown?”

Maverick leaned in to inspect. “I told you to clean the rod properly before starting. Otherwise, the residue on the surface reacts first, ruining the finish… which is exactly what’s happened here. Off the fumes, clean it properly, then try again.”

He continued moving through the classroom, the flicker of each table’s flame reflecting in his eyes. Beakers clinked softly, and the faint metallic scent filled the air as students watched the slow shimmer spread along their rods.

“Patience,” he said as he passed Harry and Tracy. “Real science is slower than magic, but sometimes that’s the beauty of it. The process itself teaches you something.”

Minutes passed, accompanied by the soft murmur of discussion and the occasional whispered question, until the bell finally rang, marking the end of the allotted class period.

“Alright,” Maverick called, clapping his hands once. “That’s enough for today. Switch off your power sources and set your rods aside. Now, before you all pull out your wands—don’t.”

Groans rippled across the room, as if they had already expected him to say it. Smiling faintly without changing his expression, Maverick continued,
“Remember, this is Muggle chemistry, not a potions classroom. For learning’s sake, you’ll clean the instruments the Muggle way too. Soap, water, and absolutely no spells.”

It was the last class of the day, and the students had no other lessons to attend anyway. And with that, he turned toward the door, leaving them with the final instruction.

As soon as he stepped outside, a subtle thrill passed over his face, though it wasn’t because he had just taught another interesting lesson about science to his students. During class a while back, he had finally received the message he had been most expecting this month, and he could hardly wait to leave the school.

But first, he needed to let the old man know he wouldn’t be around. He raised his hand and flicked his finger, and a silver-white shimmer gathered at his fingertips, taking the form of a raven whose feathers seemed woven from living mist.

“Go,” he whispered, watching the silver raven cry once and vanish through the wall, and with a single thought, his own figure also dissolved into invisibility as he moved toward the nearest open window.

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 275 - Rites of Liberation (II)

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Hogwarts. Deep underground, within the outer hall of the Slytherin Chamber of Secrets.

The soft sound of water droplets falling into a small puddle echoed through the still air, each drop rebounding off the stone walls like a slow, unending rhythm.

The chamber was silent otherwise, almost eerie. The air was heavy with the scent of wet stone, and a chill dampness seemed to seep into the skin, while dim light from a line of torches flickered faintly across the damp stone statues, where patches of moss and mold clung stubbornly to their surfaces.

To any outside observer, it would seem like an ancient ruin, lifeless and undisturbed; yet in truth, behind the veil of reality, existing both there and not truly there at the same time, a great struggle of will and rare magic was taking place.

Within the mirrored dimension, magic unlike any found in spellbooks stirred the air. Light and shadow intertwined, clashing in a silent battle over a single soul. Bolts of mysterious purple energy leaked from the runic symbols forming the ritual circle, and at its center, Dumbledore’s bare upper body glistened faintly. The symbols pulsed with a steady rhythm, each thrum echoing the quiet beat of his heart.

The water around his outstretched hand rippled with energy, revealing faint black veins pulsing beneath his skin as if alive. Gradually, the parasitic curse attached to his soul began to yield to the ritual’s force, pushed outward as tendrils of shadow-like smoke leaked into the air. It was a slow process, but it was working.

Rhythmic surges of magic coursed through the mirrored dimension, each pulse echoing like a heartbeat in the void, while bolts of blackish lightning continued to arc from the runes, drawing power from the rare and magical materials placed within the inscriptions.

The ritual was clearly working its miracle. Yet Dumbledore, at least from his outward expression, showed no sign of discomfort. All the while, purple light flickered across the old wizard’s face, catching on his composed features and the sharp focus in his eyes as time moved on.

Maverick, watching from above, sensed everything as he observed this mysterious branch of magic at work. It was fascinating to him, after all, this was the first time witnessing a magical ritual unfold. But at some point, his brows furrowed, and curiosity turned into caution. There was something there he could not quite identify at first, though not entirely unfamiliar.

A few years ago, he remembered feeling the same cold and repulsive energy during his battle against Morvain, after the lunatic had made some sort of contract with a mysterious entity. At the time, being new to the world of magic, he had no idea what it was. Later, however, he learned it was demonology, and the energy he was sensing now carried the same dark, familiar presence.

On second thought, it wasn’t surprising at all that Riddle dabbled in such vile magic. Like Morvain, he was also hopelessly lost to his own insanity, probably the maddest of them all.

Demonology, after all, is not something one simply studies, waves a wand, and masters overnight. It demands a price of its own—a contract, or in other words, an equivalent exchange. A soul, a life, even one’s sanity could be placed on the table for the bargain, quite literally a deal with the devil, all for power beyond mortal measure.

Riddle must have given up something of great importance to bind that curse to the ring. Knowing him, it could have been a fragment of his own soul or worse, the lives of countless innocents. Whatever it was, it could not have been insignificant, or Dumbledore would have found a cure long before now, with all his wisdom and connections.

It was only after discovering the Chamber of Secrets and its collection of precious books that the old man finally found a way out.

The old wizard had kept it to himself about that, but Maverick had known for some time now. Such a thing as the lingering aura of decay and death could not escape his keen magical senses, given how often he met the old man at Hogwarts. However, he chose not to mention it, preferring to wait until Dumbledore brought it up himself.

Perhaps he was waiting for the right time, but anyway, he knew about it, and Maverick was certain that Dumbledore also knew he knew. Besides, during the alien invasion, Grandmaster Flamal had even remarked about it in front of everyone.

And just weeks earlier, Dumbledore had asked for Maverick’s help in locating a crucial ingredient for a “special ritual,” or so he had said. It was also then that the old wizard finally shared everything with him. Beyond that, Dumbledore also recounted some of his past attempts to find a cure, even revealing that he had sought the Sorcerer Supreme’s assistance.

At first, Maverick was a little taken aback upon hearing that the Sorcerer Supreme herself was unable to offer any assistance, and he even inwardly raised the threat level of old Voldy by a couple of notches. After all, if Riddle was able to cast curses that even the Sorcerer Supreme had no solution for, then that meant the man was truly a monster.

Locating the ingredient Dumbledore had asked for proved tricky at first, since it had apparently been considered long extinct for many centuries.

He tried using the connections he had, but had no luck. Finally, he thought to turn to the Sorcerer’s side. After all, the Sorcerer Supreme herself had said he could come to her anytime, and if anyone could track down something thought extinct, it would be her. At the same time, he also wanted to verify whether Dumbledore’s claims were true, or if there was another piece of the story he hadn’t been told. It turned out there was.

First, he got the item Dumbledore wanted in almost no time. The Sorcerer Supreme had simply opened a portal, disappeared to who knows where, and returned moments later, as if she had just stepped out for a quick errand, casually handing him the ingredient.

A bit anticlimactic, really. She didn’t even ask for any favor in return. And it wasn’t a small piece she gave him, but anyway, he had more than enough, with even more left over for who knows when it might be needed in the future.

And with that taken care of, he finally asked her about the curse leeching on Dumbledore. Once again, he was left uncertain, for the Sorcerer Supreme only gave a knowing smile.

“Ridding Dumbledore of the curse would have been simple,” she said casually. “I could have fixed him in no time.”

The next question, of course, was why she didn’t. To answer that, the woman gave him a strange look and an even stranger curl of her smile before saying, “Aren’t you helping Dumbledore save his life now?” In other words, she could have saved him, but apparently she wanted him to be involved, which, as it happened, he now was.

Did she see the future back then and decide not to help Dumbledore herself? Or was it a future even further ahead, beyond now, that showed her something which influenced her decision? Or perhaps she saw that helping him would alter both his and Dumbledore’s future too much. In any case, he didn’t know, and frankly, there was no point in wracking his brain over it.

He didn’t ask any more questions. He simply thanked her for her help with the item and left on the spot.

Nearly half an hour had passed. The magical fluctuations radiating from the ritual had reached their peak, though they were still nothing Maverick couldn’t contain. He could feel the ritual nearing its climax.

The dark veins on Dumbledore’s hand had nearly vanished, evaporated into smoke. Again, a bit anticlimactic, honestly. Even Riddle’s horcrux, when it was consumed by fiendfire, had at least let out a wail.

The old man also did not appear to have experienced any pain from the beginning until now, maintaining the same solemn and focused expression. Perhaps he was suppressing any discomfort, or maybe the ritual itself was simply that powerful and efficient.

Maverick made a mental note that he definitely needed to read the book Dumbledore had mentioned.

A few minutes later, Maverick heard Dumbledore utter a single, strange syllable, sharp and resonant, and subsequently, the water around his hand exploded into motes of golden light before vanishing entirely. The glow from the circle also faded, as if the runes themselves had exhausted their power, until finally, only the faint torchlight remained.

Silence fell once more, and sensing no lingering magic in the air, Maverick lowered himself to the ground as well, waving his hand while also dispelling the mirror dimension.

Dumbledore exhaled deeply and lowered his hand. The hand that had once borne the curse looked whole again, the skin smooth, pale, and unmarked. He flexed his fingers once, and perhaps involuntary, a smile curled his lips, his eyes calm and faintly amused.

“Congratulations…”

“Thank you,” Dumbledore replied with a smile, rising to his feet. His robes materialized, and with a few flicks of the Elder Wand, the signs of the inscribed circle, along with the remains of the materials, vanished—all in a single breath.

“How does your magic feel?”

“Good,” he nodded. “Better than good, in fact.” He tightened his grip on the Elder Wand, and raised his arm with quiet confidence. “I can no longer sense even the faintest echo of the curse.”

Then, closing his eyes, he drew in a slow breath and released it just as calmly. “It has been far too long since I have felt this… unburdened.” Opening his eyes again, he turned to Maverick, smiling with undisguised appreciation.

“You have my deepest gratitude, Maverick. Without your help, I fear this old man would still be quietly counting his remaining days.”

“I barely did anything...”

“No… the Chamber of Secrets, the library, all of it. Without your hand in fate, I might never have found my way to it.”

“Okay, okay.” Maverick waved his hand quickly, cutting him off. “I get it, so please, spare me.” He really didn’t want to have this conversation, it was awkward as hell.

Chuckling, Dumbledore nodded and let the matter rest. They were familiar enough by now that not everything needed to be spoken aloud. Besides, this wasn’t the only favor Dumbledore owed him.

“I’ll conduct a diagnosis as well... so lower your magical defenses for a moment.”

Dumbledore nodded. He had already done one himself, but more eyes were indeed always better. And he trusted Maverick completely, so he complied without a thought, drawing back his magic, both the passive and active layers guarding his body and soul.

Minutes passed before the orange sparks coursing along Dumbledore finally disappeared. The diagnosis spells, both from the magical system and the sorcery, had done their task.

From what Maverick could tell, the ritual had been thoroughly successful, perhaps a little too successful, as he was momentarily taken aback by the feedback he received.

First, nothing remained of the evil curse, no lingering traces, no injuries to the body, and even his soul appeared unharmed.

But how? Dumbledore should have borne some damage to his soul, having had the curse drain his life energy all these years, shouldn’t he? Even if the curse had been removed, the injury should still have remained—it should have taken time to recover.

The spell he had used to examine Dumbledore’s magic was highly advanced sorcery, at least in the field of diagnosis and detection. It was capable of revealing even subtle abnormalities in a person’s life energy—possession, leeching, missing fragments—but he detected nothing of the sort. In other words, Dumbledore’s life energy... seemed completely unharmed.

Therefore, the only reasonable conclusion was that the ritual had not only cured him entirely but had also restored the life energy the curse had drained.

Incredible, he thought.

"Headmaster, you’re... completely recovered." Lowering his arm and wearing a thoughtful expression, he finally spoke. "Physically and magically, you’re fine."

Dumbledore let out a soft chuckle. “Ah, from that look on your face, I see you have questions,” he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Let me venture a guess… you’re wondering how my injuries healed so completely?”

"Yes..." Maverick admitted plainly.

“Understandable,” Dumbledore said, inclining his head. “Ritual magic is a subtle and demanding art, studied by very few.”

Well, the old wizard wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t a popular subject of study, not even publicly taught. The main reason was that much of it involved steps far darker than most would dare to attempt. Nine times out of ten, the process required binding, manipulating, or sometimes even consuming something vulgar—flesh, blood, or the like. Essentially, rituals tampered with the natural order of things, carried immense risk, and could even inflict lasting damage on one’s own soul.

Of course, high risk often meant high reward, but not everyone was willing to pay such a price. There was perhaps only one magic of that sort taught publicly throughout the magical world, and that was the Animagus ritual. But even that was taught under extreme supervision, because if the ritual went wrong, the witch or wizard could very well become permanently trapped in the form of the animal, their mind and soul warped beyond repair.

“Come,” Dumbledore beckoned Maverick to follow. “Let us continue this conversation in the Ancestors’ Library...”

—————————

Author’s Note:

Sorry for the late update... it's been a super busy week at work. 🙏

Thanks for your patience!

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 274 - Rites of Liberation (I)

Hogwarts, deep beneath the castle, in the Chamber of Secrets.

The air was cool and heavy with the scent of wet stone, while the dim light from burning torches flickered across the walls, revealing serpentine carvings that glistened faintly with moisture.

At the far end of the chamber stood a colossal stone face, presumably that of Salazar Slytherin himself. The carving was disturbingly lifelike, its expression both proud and cruel, with serpents twining around its long beard. “Hideous” would be the first word to come to mind when looking at it.

Then, with a deep rumble, the statue began to move. Stone grated against stone as its mouth slowly opened, the lips parting and the massive jaw lowering to reveal a dark passage beyond, as though the ancient founder were about to speak after centuries of silence.

From within the shadowed tunnel, slow, deliberate footsteps echoed into the vast underground hall, breaking the stillness as two figures emerged side by side. Their voices were low, almost casual, as they walked between the rows of serpent statues, the sound of their conversation mingling with the faint hiss of air moving through the ancient chamber.

"Couldn't you have chosen a better place, Headmaster?" Maverick asked, waving his hand and sending two orbs of light drifting into the air. They hovered above, casting a steady glow across the damp stone. "At least somewhere with a bit of a breeze..."

The two in question were Maverick and Dumbledore, and the passage they had just emerged from was none other than the true Chamber of Secrets, hidden behind the enormous stone face. After their first exploration of the place and their encounter with the castle’s guardian, they were now able to access this secret sanctuary through a floo point connected to the Headmaster’s office, allowing them to enter and exit with ease whenever needed.

"The ambient magic here is strong, and the chamber is well protected with wards," Dumbledore replied, half-smiling, and paused as he reached the heart of the long walkway lined with countless grim snake faces, his steps coming to a deliberate halt.

“Interesting choice for ink…” Maverick said, frowning slightly.

Before them, on the slick stone floor, a wide circle of rune-like patterns sprawled outward, drawn in a thick black substance. It glistened faintly in the torchlight, viscous and almost alive, as if the ink itself pulsed with a quiet, steady rhythm.

“Ah, Night Serpent Essence… I happened to acquire it from Hagrid,” Dumbledore said, smiling. “It is rare, certainly, yet not altogether difficult to obtain. It resonates most harmoniously with darker forms of magic and provides a remarkably steady conduit for even the most intricate of runic enchantments.”

“Or, in this particular case, for inscribing a ritual circle,” Maverick added.

“Quite right,” Dumbledore agreed, his eyes twinkling as he gestured toward the slick black runes already laid out on the floor. “I completed the inscriptions only yesterday, and now, it is ready to be set into motion.”

“Whenever you’re prepared, Headmaster.”

“I shall begin then…” Dumbledore said, nodding thoughtfully.

While Maverick watched, Dumbledore stepped carefully into the circle, mindful not to disturb the dark ink, and one by one retrieved items from his storage ring, placing them at precise points along the patterns.

“And you’re certain, Headmaster, this is the last ritual?” Maverick asked after a moment, his eyes studying the objects carefully laid out within the circle.

“The third,” Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully as he continued his movements. “If all proceeds as it should, then yes, this will be the final ritual.”

Maverick then began to circle the drawn pattern, studying it carefully with both his eyes and his magical sense. “How far has the curse been lifted so far?” he asked.
“It is not removed, Professor, though ‘suppressed’ would be a more accurate term,” Dumbledore answered, casting a brief glance at him, then retrieved another item, the wooden box Maverick had given him earlier, and continued his careful work. With a precise flick of his wand, he levitated it to the very center of the circle and gently lowered it into place.

The item looked ordinary at first, just a small, withered piece of wood. Yet its deep black color and the deliberate care with which Dumbledore handled it made it clear there was more to it than met the eye.

“Shadowroot,” Dumbledore said, stepping carefully out of the circle now that the final item was in place. “Records tell us it is a subterranean tree, flourishing only in perpetual darkness. I must admit, I had long since lost hope, for it was believed extinct for centuries.” He smiled, eyes twinkling as he gave Maverick a knowing glance. “That is, until you were kind enough to procure it for me.”

Saying, he walked over to Maverick and, standing shoulder to shoulder, peered into the circle. Then, with a teasing lilt in his voice, he asked, “Curious why it’s so crucial?”

“I’m not,” Maverick answered, letting out a quiet sigh at the old man’s antics. “But I’m sure you’ll explain anyway.”

Chuckling softly, Dumbledore continued, “It anchors the ritual to the physical world, preventing the curse from escaping into the ether or rebounding onto another host.”

He then pointed to another item. "The Crystalline Water from the Silver Springs cleanses magical residue, ensuring no remnants of the curse linger to rebind the victim later."

Then he gestured to another. "Moonflower Pollen enhances the alignment between earthly and cosmic energies needed to purge soul-bound curses."

"Dragon’s Vein Blood acts as a stabilizer for volatile energies, preventing the curse from backfiring onto the caster or the circle. Its elemental power strengthens the ritual’s containment..."

“I know the ingredients, Headmaster. I’m a master alchemist,” Maverick cut him off, holding back the urge to roll his eyes. “By the way, where’s Slytheris?”

“Ah… the guardian should be resting in her chambers,” Dumbledore’s hand moved to his chin. “But with you here, Professor, I won’t be requiring her assistance during this ritual.”

“You had her assist you with the past rituals? How?” Maverick raised a brow, genuinely curious.

“Of course. Using her authority over the castle’s magic, she assisted in strengthening the wards of the chamber, even layering barriers with her own magical energy in case any residual magic was produced.”

Maverick gave the old man a long glance, then turned away. “I never took you for reckless… or daring, Headmaster. Why didn’t you ask for mine, or Professor McGonagall’s assistance?”

“Oh, do not take it the wrong way, Professor. I acted as I did because I have every confidence the ritual would succeed completely. It was simply an exercise in extreme precaution.”

"And now? You don’t have full confidence?"

“I do,” the old wizard replied, eyes twinkling. “The ritual will succeed, of that I have no doubt. In my younger days, I pursued this branch of magic rather extensively and became, dare I say, fairly knowledgeable in it. Along with my…” He stopped mid-sentence, a faint smile tugging at his lips, as if reconsidering whether to share what was on his mind.

“The point, Professor,” he continued after a brief pause, “is that this old man knows what he is doing. And besides, the Ancestors’ Book is quite comprehensive. I dare say a master alchemist such as yourself could glean many valuable insights from it… would you care to take a look for yourself?”

“Isn’t it in Slytherin’s personal chamber?” Maverick shrugged knowingly. “So I will, eventually… when I have the time.”

“Grimoire of Eternal Chains,” Dumbledore went on, eyes twinkling. “It contains some very wicked knowledge for anyone inclined toward evil, yet at the same time, it is remarkably insightful.”

“I'm sure it is.” Maverick had gone through nearly all the books in the general Chamber of Secrets by now; only the personal collections in the founders’ private chambers remained largely unexplored. And these past few months, he had been pressed for time at every turn.

Pushing the thought aside, he refocused on the matter at hand. “Is everything set up now for the ritual?”

“Yes. Though I will need your assistance, Professor, to ensure the aftermath is as quiet and controlled as possible.”

Maverick took a moment to consider, then gave a small nod. After all, this was a ritual, a branch of magic he was not particularly proficient in. Yet he trusted Dumbledore, and from the old man’s calm explanations, he sensed nothing but confidence. And with that reassurance, he let go of any lingering worry as well that something might go awry.

Once again, Dumbledore carefully stepped inside the circle, and while standing at the only point empty of ink and objects, he waved his wand. As a result, his robes vanished along with every piece of fabric on his upper body, and the old man lowered himself to the stone floor.

Damn… this old thing is ripped af. Maverick raised an eyebrow, watching Dumbledore’s deliberate movements, then moved into action himself, pushing up from the stone floor and letting his magic flow as well, weaving protective layers around the ritual circle.

Layer by layer, he applied magical barriers, combining the magical system and the spells of sorcery, and soon, despite not being able to see anything with the naked eye, he was sure nothing, physical or otherwise, could escape far from the runic circle in which Dumbledore sat.

Meanwhile, sitting cross-legged with his upper body bare, Dumbledore waved the Elder Wand with his good hand, tracing precise gestures over his other, cursed hand. The tattered fabric that had once covered it had vanished, leaving only skin exposed. At a glance, the change was striking: where before the hand had looked sickly and bluish, it now appeared almost normal, at least to the naked eye.

The last two rituals the old man had performed seemed to have worked their miracle. From what Maverick had learned from Dumbledore, the curse was now almost completely suppressed. What remained, then, was simply the final step: removing it entirely and destroying it.

With another flick of the Elder Wand, one of the ingredients, the crystalline water that Maverick recognized by its silvery hue and faint magical residue, began to flow from its container in the ritual circle. Gradually, it flowed outward and wrapped around Dumbledore’s outstretched, cursed hand like a serpent encircling its prey.

“When you’re ready, Professor, I shall begin.” With his arm, from elbow completely enveloped in the water containing the special magical essence, Dumbledore called out without raising his head.

“One moment,” Maverick said, then added one final layer of magic. He enclosed the space and manipulated the mirror dimension, not in the usual way, but altered it so that objects could enter the circle while nothing could escape.

To an outside observer, shards of mirror-like surfaces would appear out of thin air, slowly spreading to envelop the entire space. Gradually, Dumbledore and Maverick would fade from sight, vanishing from the naked eye as if the air itself had swallowed them.

“Interesting… what fascinating magic,” Dumbledore couldn’t help but remark mid-action.

“You can start now, Headmaster.”

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 273 - A New Semester in Motion (II)

Sunday evening, at five o’clock, the sky was already pitch black, and snow drizzled softly, blanketing the rooftops of the castle’s many towers.

Emerging from his office, Maverick strolled through the empty hallways and came to a stop by one of the open corridors. In the distance, he could see young witches and wizards returning from the holidays, appearing along the long slope that led to the castle.

Excitement, and most of all eagerness, was written all across their faces. Even without using his magical sense to listen in, he could easily guess the subject of their animated conversations, which was quite literally about him, along with the three who had taken part in the battle against the aliens.

Sighing, he continued his lazy walk toward the Great Hall for the opening dinner. For the next few days at least, he was certain he would have a hard time doing any actual teaching, with all the questions he would inevitably have to answer.

---

The weeks passed like a quiet river, unhurried yet inevitable, carrying all things forward. The first week, true to his guess, half the lessons were about satisfying the young witches’ and wizards’ relentless curiosity, so much so that in the end, he had to gather the entire school on the weekend and play out the battle for everyone, of course, on the condition that no more talk of it should be held, at least during classes.

It didn’t work. The excitement continued through the second week and even lingered into the third, though it had begun to soften somewhat by then. It was only in the fourth week that life at Hogwarts finally returned to normal, with classes, meals, and lessons resuming their familiar rhythm for students and professors alike.

And by familiar, it was not by typical Hogwarts standards, but by those of any normal educational institution. Hogwarts, after all, had always been a magnet for chaos. Yet now, with the matters of Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black finally laid to rest, and even Lupin’s furry problem resolved, the castle stood quieter than it had in years. The events that were meant to unfold in the original story would not come to pass. Probably, anyway.

The trio’s training also resumed in the Room of Requirement, and they seemed even more fired up now, for no other reason than having witnessed the thrilling battle against the alien invaders. After all, who wouldn’t dream of being the hero who saves the world, right? In any case, there was one change in their practice routines now, which was that Jean had started joining them in the sessions as well.

Initially, Maverick had been adamant that she experience life at Hogwarts normally, like any other student. But with the alien invasion and her aunt Ororo being part of the team on the front lines, she seemed to have changed her mind as well, saying she wanted to be ready for anything.

Of course, that wasn’t the reason Maverick had agreed to let her join the trio in training, but it had been Ororo who, on the first day of school, gave him a call and asked him to allow her to participate, insisting on it quite persistently.

Maverick had no doubt that the little witch was one hundred percent behind it, making Ororo convince him and likely even feeding her what to say. Sly little bird. But anyway, she had already spent a semester like any other student, which was probably enough, and coupled with Ororo’s personal insistence, he agreed in the end without much argument. Besides, it wouldn’t be him personally instructing her, but the trio, who by now were more than capable of handling it, at least for the basics, until she could catch up with them.

As for their performance, starting with the trio, Hermione and Ron were still behind Harry, and Potter, the son of luck, proved to be an absolute genius when it came to dueling—something Maverick had firmly recognized by now.

A little slow, yes—every time Harry learned new spells it took him some time, slower than Miss Know-It-All—but once he got the hang of them, applying them to practice came almost naturally to him.

Their magical energy was also growing due to the high-intensity training they were undergoing, and Maverick was certain that by the time they graduated, at least Potter, Granger, and Jean would successfully advance from mage apprentice to magus.

Jean, perhaps even sooner, for among all of them, her magic was the most potent—or more accurately, there shouldn’t be anyone her age more magically gifted than her. Given, after all, she was an avatar of a walking, talking creature of cosmic myth. Fortunately, until now at least, there hadn’t been any sign of her sleeping powers trying to take over.

January, as well as February, passed just like that, with some frenzy at the beginning but eventually settling into a quiet rhythm. The harsh winter winds gradually softened, and the heavy snow gave way to occasional patches of sunlight breaking through gray skies, hinting at the coming spring. Then, once again in March, excitement returned to the school, stirring the corridors and classrooms with renewed energy.

The second round of the interschool Quidditch tournament began early in March, and once again, the team set off, flanked by Coach Steven, McGonagall, and Hooch, bound for the host country. Maverick chose to stay behind for this round as well, though he planned to join them if the team made it to the finals.

The castle buzzed with sportsmanship throughout the week. Huge screens were set up in the Great Hall, and even the house-elves prepared feasts with extra treats for the occasion so that everyone could watch the games. Class schedules were adjusted as well, ensuring that whenever Hogwarts played, no student would miss a match, allowing everyone to gather and cheer together.

This round featured three schools, each playing two games, making a total of three matches. In the past two years, thanks to a combination of luck and talent, Hogwarts had advanced through this round and even reached the finals, claiming the championship once. Unfortunately, this year was not their year.

In the first game, they lost after a neck-and-neck battle against Igor Karkaroff’s team of Durmstrang barbarians, falling short by just two goals when Durmstrang reached 150 points first.

The second game was simply a matter of bad luck, as the opponent caught the Snitch within the first five minutes, before Potter even had a chance to catch his breath. The son of luck had simply not been fortunate in either game.

But that’s the nature of Quidditch. Often, if luck is not on one’s side, the outcome can be harsh, and it can change in an instant. Unless the International Quidditch Association decides to change the strange rules surrounding the Snitch, it will remain that way. Yet that unpredictability is also part of what sets Quidditch apart from Muggle sports.

Magic and luck are inseparable, after all. This was also why Maverick chose not to propose changing the Snitch rule in the tournament, limiting adjustments only to the total points instead.

It was a miserable evening at Hogwarts. The whole school returned to their dormitories as if they had been taught a hard lesson, long faces everywhere. Still, no one blamed the team, as it was clear their loss in qualification had come down to bad luck.

When the team returned, however, the school greeted them with as much fanfare as if they had won. Much of the credit went to old Dumbledore, who lifted everyone’s spirits with his signature Dumbledory talk-no-jutsu, reminding them that both winning and losing are part of the beauty of the game.

On the bright side, though, now that the school would no longer participate in the tournament for the rest of the year, the students of the All-Star team got to play in the school’s house competition. The teams were readjusted, and in the end, Quidditch frenzy continued with the same hype, if not more, than before.

---

Weeks melted away, and suddenly, March was also behind, leaving only faint memories of its passing. The bitter winds of winter had softened, replaced by shafts of warm sunlight cutting through lingering clouds. Snow patches clung stubbornly to the grounds but were slowly retreating, revealing streaks of green that hinted at spring’s quiet return.

One weekend, after dinner and past curfew, Maverick wandered the empty corridors and once again, for the umpteenth time this semester, found himself standing before the gargoyle statues guarding the entrance to the Headmaster’s office.

It wasn’t a random stroll, though, and before he could even mutter the silly name of a dessert he would rather feed to Goose, the statues stepped aside, granting him permission to enter.

From inside, the old wizard greeted him with his signature twinkle, but tonight his expression carried something more, a sense of anticipation and eagerness for what was to come.

“I must say, Professor, I did not anticipate you finding it so quickly,” Dumbledore said, his voice carrying both surprise and delight. “I reached out to every friend I could think of, and not one was in possession of it. I had begun to fear we might have reached a rather unfortunate dead end.”

Shrugging lightly, Maverick raised his hand, and a small wooden box materialized in his palm. He extended it toward Dumbledore. “You might want to thank the Sorcerer Supreme,” he said with a small smile. “After this is over, it would be wise to pay her a visit.”
Dumbledore only raised a brow, his knowing look giving nothing away, and nodded before carefully opening the box.

After a beat, he closed it again, and in the next moment, the box vanished into his own storage ring. “I shall pay her a visit,” he said softly, then turned toward the fireplace. “Come along. Everything else is prepared for the last ritual.”

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 272 - A New Semester in Motion (I)

Hogwarts.

Sunlight streamed through the tall arched windows of the Headmaster’s office, filling the room with a soft golden warmth despite the thick layers of snow blanketing the castle grounds.

It was another beautiful morning, and Headmaster Albus Dumbledore sat behind his large ornate desk, a cup of something undoubtedly sweet resting before him, while his magical companion, Fawkes, purred softly, feathers fluffed and eyes closed, perched on his stand in peaceful slumber.

Accompanying him across the desk, his deputy, Minerva McGonagall sat in her usual composed posture, while beside her, Maverick leaned back slightly in his chair, the three of them appearing to share just another lighthearted morning conversation.

“I didn’t take you for a cat person, Professor, or any… pet, as a matter of fact…”

Looking at the red ginger cat resting peacefully on Maverick’s lap as he rubbed its back, Dumbledore’s eyes couldn’t help but twinkle inquisitively.

“Yes, well, you were wrong then, Headmaster.”

“Will she be a permanent resident then?” McGonagall also glanced over, smiling.

“How’d you know it’s a she?” raising an eyebrow, Maverick asked. He was genuinely a little surprised. He had only just returned to Hogwarts, first from Kamar-Taj and then after spending some time with his family back home. He was certain McGonagall had never seen Goose before, not even in the illusions he had shown everyone a few weeks earlier during the briefings at Maria’s house.

When he arrived, unsurprisingly, he was summoned to the Headmaster’s office as soon as he passed the wards, before he even reached his chamber.

“You forget, Professor,” she said with a teasing smirk, “who you’re talking to. No cat can fool me,” she added rather confidently.

Apparently, this one had. Of course, Maverick didn’t say it out loud, just shrugged, letting her win her way, then turned to Dumbledore again. “So, is there something urgent happening?”

“Nothing in particular,” Dumbledore answered, then pushed the newspaper on the desk to his side. “I was wondering if you’ve seen the recent news?”

With a questioning look, Maverick nudged the paper toward himself and took a look. On the front page, as it had been for the past few days, was an article about what happened in China over the desert. “Hmm… I like the picture,” he said, looking at the moving photograph of himself, infact, captured from the side as he summoned eldritch magic into a colossal ring of blades. “Is this a new magic or transfiguration at the highest level?” he read the headline aloud, then put the paper down and looked back at Dumbledore.

“I’ve seen my face more times than I can count these past few days, so I’ve been avoiding them for now,” he said with a chuckle. “Merlin, I’d rather not end up a narcissist like Lockhart.”

“Lockhart was a fraud, Professor, which you are not.” McGonagall also chuckled and picked up the newspaper, folding the first page, then the next, to the third. “Here,” she said, handing him the paper again.

Taking the paper from her hand and shrugging lightly, he glanced at the contents again.

“The first failure by the new administration...”

Infamous Murderer Peter Pettigrew Found Dead in Prison Cell

In a shocking turn of events, convicted murderer Peter Pettigrew was found dead inside his prison cell shortly after a visit from his mother, Mabel Pettigrew. Authorities have ruled the incident a suicide, though many question whether that is truly the case.

Was this a final act of mercy from a grieving mother? Sources within the Ministry whisper that Mabel Pettigrew may have played a part in her son’s death. Whether through a colorless poison or an unforgivable curse that severed his soul, one thing is certain — Peter Pettigrew’s torment inside the prison has come to an unexpected and mysterious end.

Maverick read part of the article aloud, then put it down. Of course, he already knew exactly what had happened long before the newspapers got wind of it, but he was simply playing along.

Pettigrew’s mother had applied to visit Azkaban not once but twice. The first time was a normal visit, but the second time... well, let’s just say the apparently dead body of Peter was not exactly him. And likewise, the woman in question was not exactly Peter’s mother anymore, and someone else.

Everything had happened under Greengrass’s absolute supervision, and even the aftermath — from leaks to the report by the Daily Prophet — was orchestrated by him. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have been buried on the third page of the paper.

While the article suggested that Peter’s mother might have convinced the rat to end his life or even taken part directly, the truth was far from it. The rat’s mother had offered to switch places with her son — call it maternal-sacrifice. In other words, it was indeed a mother’s mercy, or rather, a sacrifice, for her son.

Of course, she couldn’t have done that so smoothly if the guards hadn’t been told to look the other way. There was no compulsion involved, and it was purely her own decision. It wasn’t exactly how Maverick had planned to make the rat escape, but the perfect solution had delivered itself on a silver platter, so he simply asked Greengrass to close one eye.

“Tragic. For the mother, of course,” Maverick remarked after a moment. “I wouldn’t exactly call it mercy, though. The rat deserves no mercy.” He paused, then glanced at Dumbledore. “Wouldn’t you think so, Headmaster?” He didn’t really care whether Dumbledore suspected something was off. Either way, he would find out soon enough.

“Would you really like to hear my thoughts on it, Professor?” Dumbledore asked after a moment, giving him a knowing smile.

Maverick waved a hand. “No, not really. Is this why you called me to your office, Headmaster?”

The smile on the old man grew even wider, but Maverick didn’t budge and kept a straight face. Okay, now Maverick was fairly sure that this old fox had at least deduced something wasn’t quite right about the supposed suicide. But unless he asked directly—and even then—Maverick would feign ignorance.

“Will the two of you not… do that in front of me, please?” After a stretch of silence, McGonagall finally interrupted their quiet exchange and complained. “And no, Professor, we did not ask you to come because of the article,” she said, turning to Maverick.

“Please, I’m all ears,” Maverick said, lifting his shoulders slightly.

McGonagall then glanced once more at Dumbledore and turned back to Maverick again, deciding she would lead the discussion from here. It was mostly about the lesson plans for the remainder of the semester, and that he should be prepared for some very, very enthusiastic questions from students during the first few days.

The talk of the magical world was still about the sky-shattering battle that took place a few weeks ago, and they, being the main figures of the operation, would undoubtedly be sought out the most.

Dumbledore, McGonagall, and even Flitwick had been avoiding reporters until now, returning to Hogwarts and never appearing in public—at least not as themselves—so none of their comments had been published. The same went for Maverick, though he wasn’t exactly avoiding reporters; he was simply busy in places they could not find him.

Obviously, the young witches and wizards would be impatient to hear about everything from them, which unfortunately couldn’t be avoided. They would just have to endure it for a few days until the buzz faded away.

“There’s one last, very important matter,” McGonagall said at the end. “Discussions have begun between the three major schools of Europe—Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Hogwarts—about holding a grand event next year. Igor proposed the idea, saying he drew inspiration from the interschool Quidditch tournament, to create a truly magical competition between the three schools.”

“Oh…” Maverick was intrigued and looked between the two of them. “What does Headmaster Karkaroff have in mind?” Of course, he already had a guess, but he didn’t expect the reason behind it to be “inspiration” from the interschool tournament he started.

“Have you heard about the Triwizard Tournament?” asked Dumbledore, looking at Maverick.

“I have. But wasn’t it stopped because of the loose regulations and many safety risks involved?”

“It was,” McGonagall answered from the side. “But that was a long time ago. And regulations can be changed... so can safety measures.”

“Indeed,” Dumbledore chimed in. “In any case, it promises to be a delightful event, much like the interschool Quidditch tournament... one that could bring the students of our school’s four houses into an even more harmonious atmosphere than it already has.”

Maverick nodded, then after a moment, asked again, “What are the proposed changes discussed so far?”

“For starters,” McGonagall explained enthusiastically, “we’re thinking of creating a brand-new Triwizard Cup, or at least removing its old, binding rules. Anything uncontrollable or too dangerous for the organizers to handle will be dropped. That said, it cannot be any less thrilling than before. We have also proposed raising the security standards even higher. With that in place, we could also remove the age restriction, or at least lower it slightly.”

“Still, talks are on the table, not finalized,” Dumbledore added, then smiling at Maverick, he asked, “Would you like to join us for the next meeting—”

“No.” Maverick quickly cut him off, raising a hand. “I’m sorry, Headmaster, I have too much on my plate. Businessman turned full-time teacher and all that. Especially next year, I can’t worry about anything else, since many new projects from my companies, both in the Muggle and magical spheres, are planned to launch.”

Both Dumbledore and McGonagall sighed at the same time. However, Maverick didn’t change his expression, no matter how much air the two old foxes exhaled.

A moment later, Dumbledore said, “Very well, then. How would you feel about joining the judges’ panel? Surely that won’t take much of your valuable time?”

“Wasn't it supposed to be one judge from each school?” Maverick asked, puzzled.

“That was before, and now it’s under discussion. While we’re making changes to the participants, their ages, perhaps even their numbers... we might as well increase the number of judges,” he explained, and having said that, he waited for Maverick’s response.

Damn. This old man is really pushing it. Exhaling, Maverick finally nodded. “As a judge, fine. But that’s it. Don’t throw any other responsibilities my way.”

“Wonderful,” McGonagall exclaimed brightly. “And I hope you wouldn’t mind lending your team to help us cover the tournament… you know, broadcasting the events through your fiancée’s news network, much like the interschool Quidditch tournament…”

Maverick nodded after a moment. “I’ll ask Bella and my friend Ali to get in touch.” By now, he didn’t need to involve himself personally in matters like this, and Isabella and Ali were more than capable of handling it on their own.

Anyway, he would be too busy, because during this very tournament was also when his plan to topple the Secrecy Act would begin. And now, because of the changes that would be made to the Triwizard Tournament, some adjustments would also be needed in his plan, though nothing troublesome that couldn’t be improvised.

Some more words were exchanged, and soon, Maverick finally left for his chamber in the castle. Later, around sunset, the train would arrive at Hogwarts—packed full of students—ready to begin another, undoubtedly memorable semester.

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 271 - After the Dust Settles (II)

"When was the last time you’ve seen your wife?" Maverick asked, eyeing Howard. Although outwardly there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with him, Maverick could still sense the fatigue the man kept bottled up inside.

"Maria?" Howard tilted his head slightly. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I’m asking when was the last time you were anywhere but here."

"Fine. Two days back." Howard waved his hand, exhaling. "If you must know, I’ve got a date with my wife... tonight."

Maverick ignored the last part of his answer and asked again, "And while you were at home, did you not watch the news?"

"What are you on about..." Howard asked again, looking more puzzled. "Did something big happen recently?"

"The news, Howard..."

Sighing, Howard finally took a moment to think, then answered, "The only thing of interest... let’s see." He rubbed his chin. "Was probably the reports about some joint nations’ weapons test being conducted in China." He paused, then looked at Maverick, suddenly thinking of something and asking with a skeptical look, "Or does it have something to do with you wizard lot?"

Finally, Maverick smiled. "Yes." He didn’t bother to hide it or keep the suspense anymore. "Something big happened, and it brought together not just us. It was a joint operation carried out by the entire world... magicals, non-magicals, even mutants working together."

"I see..." said Howard, then just a beat later he asked more sharply, "Wait, what? What could possibly bring all of you into one group?"

"A very, very powerful—" Maverick started, then paused and changed his wording. "—no, troublesome enemy. I’ll let you guess. Once," he added teasingly.

"Troublesome?" Howard thought for a moment. "Could it be that one of your High Councilors rebelled... turned into a terrorist like the madman from the war?"

Maverick’s eye twitched. Well, can’t really blame him for putting the magicals first on the suspect list.

Shaking his head, Maverick corrected him. "No. It has nothing to do with us."

"Okay?... Then what is it? The news called it a weapons test. Some networks even showed footage of the aftermath, and if any of that’s real, I’d say nukes were deployed... probably more than one."

"It was aliens," Maverick finally said.

Howard’s mouth hung open momentarily, wordless, then his eyes widened. "You’re… not lying?" He didn’t think Maverick would joke about something like that.

"Why? With everything you know, is it so hard to believe in the existence of aliens?"

"No, you bastard." Howard’s voice suddenly rose a pitch, and he stretched out his arm, pointing a finger at Maverick as if accusing him of some grave offense.

"I’m not surprised knowing there are aliens. I’m a scientist," he said, sounding genuinely wronged. "I’m upset because while all that was happening, you never thought to call me... me!"

At Howard’s tantrum, Maverick’s expression didn’t change and he just stared at him blankly. Inwardly, however, he felt a little awkward. Indeed, he really did forget all about him in the heat of everything.

"Everything happened too fast, and besides, what could you do even if you knew about it?"

"That’s not the point!" Howard said, rubbing his face with both hands dejectedly before slumping into the sofa. "Aliens, man..." he muttered after a moment. "How could I, the number one scientist in the world, miss something like that?"

Saying that, he tilted his head back, leaning against the sofa and staring at the ceiling. He really looked like he had just been told the worst news in the world, or like a child who had just lost their favorite pet.

"Anyway, that brings us to my new friend here," Maverick said after a moment of silence, making Howard, who was staring upward, darken one eye toward their direction.

"What about him?"

"He... is an alien," Maverick said matter-of-factly.

But contrary to what he expected, Howard’s expression didn’t change. He only leaned forward slowly, narrowing his eyes at Norex, then glanced back at Maverick questioningly.

"Oh, right," Maverick suddenly realized the issue and turned to Norex. "Change back."

Moments later...

Seeing a perfectly normal-looking human suddenly change into a green, rough-skinned, medieval, bald-looking elf, the genius scientist, temporarily not a billionaire, did not overreact like a normal person should at such a sight. His eyes only widened for a moment before he swallowed his shock and turned his head slightly back to Maverick.

"You’re not messing with me, right? This isn’t some of your hocus-pocus magic? He’s... an actual alien? From outer space?"

Actually, that was a perfectly reasonable question to ask. After all, Howard had seen enough and by now knew very well what magic was capable of as well as what Maverick himself could do.

"He’s a legit, green-blooded alien," Maverick answered. Then, instead of explaining the rest, he figured it was better to just show him.

"His species are called Skrull..." As the lights dimmed and the room around them began to blur, Maverick started explaining everything that had happened over the past couple of weeks.

---

About an hour later, the vision in the room faded, the last scene showing clear blue skies and two small, shuttle-like spaceships streaking upward like bullets, the moment Danvers and Talos left Earth to explore the universe. The illusion then dissipated, and everything inside the room returned to normal.

"If the two of them eventually do stumble upon the technology we’re researching, it could save us a lot of time, maybe even all of it."

The room was quiet. Norex was still mesmerized, or perhaps stunned by the incredible experience of witnessing something in such lifelike detail. Howard, on the other hand, had seen enough not to be easily shaken, though his mind was now deep in thought, processing everything he had just learned.

"That’s a big if," Howard said after a moment, then put on that same stubborn look from earlier. "Forget about it for now." He shook his head, exhaling. "I’m still upset you didn’t include me. I mean, even SHIELD agents were there. Heck, there was a random woman too."

"That random woman is Danvers’s friend," Maverick explained without changing his expression. "But… if it makes you feel any better, next time a random alien army shows up, you’ll be the first one I call." Of course, that was nonsense. After all, how often do random alien armies show up on Earth?

Hmm, wait… this is Marvel, so maybe it technically can’t be called nonsense, right? He mused inwardly. Besides, by now, he understood why this guy kept complaining—what else could it be but coveting the tech?

Howard gave only an unimpressed, unsatisfied look, his eyes half-open as he stared at Maverick. A moment later, he asked, "How much tech did you manage to secure? I want to study it. All of it." Straightening up, he finally got to the point.

Smiling, Maverick replied, "First of all, I didn’t steal anything. It’s called spoils of war."

"Whatever, potato, potahto." Howard waved his hand dismissively. "How many of those smaller shuttles did you scavenge really?"

“I have enough,” Maverick answered vaguely after a moment, then his expression turned serious. “But I’m thinking… after I hand them over for you to research, you might disregard the real project I gave you. And I can’t have that.”

Howard opened his mouth to retort, but closed it a moment later. What Maverick said wasn’t wrong. He was, after all, first and foremost, a fanatic scientist. And a fanatic scientist getting the opportunity to research advanced alien tech could indeed turn out exactly as Maverick predicted.

“That’s why I brought this guy to be your partner in research,” Maverick continued. “The research on the alien tech will mainly be done by him, while you continue with the Mars project. Of course, you can join in as well, and Norex here will share everything with you, and you likewise.”

“As for what I have… I have a lot, honestly. From alien battle suits to energy blaster weapons, space shuttles, and even…” He paused for a moment and added, “an Imperial cruiser. That’s their mothership, the big behemoth spaceship you saw in the illusion.”

At this point, Howard’s eyes had widened so much it looked like they might pop out. Gold mine. For a scientist, this was a gold mine.

“So much… where…” He wanted to see them, study them inside and out right then and there, but Maverick raised a hand to stop before he might actually start drooling on the table.

“I’ll get to that, but first, listen. Here’s the plan. You and my new friend here will work together on both tasks. Start with the space suits—improve the ones we’ll be using on Mars when we get there. And as for the spaceships… I honestly don’t even know where to begin, but there’s plenty for you to study and replicate for the Mars mission. My point is,” he emphasized, “don’t lose sight of the main objective. Everything has to ultimately serve the Mars mission.”

A moment of silence stretched across the office before Howard finally exhaled, collected himself, and leaned back. “I get it.”

He paused, seemingly lost in thought, then continued, “Actually, we’ve already explored some theories. Not for full-scale terraforming yet, but for setting up a temporary base—a large, self-sustaining structure that can endure harsh conditions and extreme weather. A kind of sustainable ecosystem pocket. It’s still on the drawing board, and I was waiting until we had a solid, foolproof plan before bringing you in for a proper briefing.”

Anyway, Howard thought, if he wanted to get his hands on the alien tech, he had to offer something in return. Moreover, what he said wasn’t made up, that was exactly what he and his team had been working on for the past few months.

“Oh…” Maverick raised a brow and leaned back as well. “How large is this… self-sustaining base going to be?”

“About a kilometer… calling it safe. My point is, once we establish a base there, the real research on terraforming can begin. Only by studying the planet on-site can we conduct proper analysis. Right now, what we’re doing is perfecting a way to live there and actually survive comfortably.”

Maverick nodded thoughtfully after listening. Makes sense. After all, the data on Mars so far only came from readings gathered through telescopic observations. But from the planet itself, they could study, collect more accurate and comprehensive data, and only then could the real research begin.

"Very well, then. I’ll hand over every piece of alien tech I have with me for you two to study." He said with a final nod, his mind made up. "But before that, I’ll have my team expand the base. The mothership alone is about the size of a football stadium, so it’ll take a while to get things ready. The smaller shuttles and the rest of the tech, though—I’ll hand those over today before I leave."

Glancing sideways, he added, “The first thing I want you to do, Norex, is completely remove any signals that might be sent out. I also have a captured Kree soldier who knows everything about the ship’s operational procedures, so if you need to clear anything or decrypt something, just give me a call.”

He had kept the Kree lieutenant alive precisely because there might still be encryptions Norex would need to crack or could not decrypt on his own. Obviously, there would be secure protocols buried within the system, and Maverick had no intention of using the Kree ship for anything until he was certain it was completely under his control.

Time passed slowly. After finalizing a rough plan, Norex was then taken to meet the rest of the team working on the project.  Maverick joined as well, surveying the work they had been doing over the past few months, ever since his Earth-made spaceship was launched en route to Mars. There was still a little over a month until it reached the red planet, and after that, the real mission would begin.

As Howard had said, actual terraforming research could only begin once they were on the red planet’s surface. As for why Maverick didn’t just use a Kree pod to get there immediately—well, he could have, but he chose not to. At least in these early stages, he wanted the project to rely purely on Earth-made technology, with no alien interference. Call it pride or whatever; he didn’t care.

After the briefing, Maverick no longer lingered in the lab and chose to leave. Norex, however, stayed with Howard. Unsurprisingly, the two scientists hit it off remarkably quickly.

---

Greenland.

Far to the north, approaching the Arctic Circle, vast icefields stretch as far as the eye can see, broken only by jagged ice formations and ridges that rise like frozen towers against the pale gray sky. A bitter wind sweeps across the landscape, chilling to the bone and carrying flakes of snow that sting any exposed skin. The emptiness feels endless, a silent, frozen wilderness at the edge of the world.

Here, at the northern tip of this small continental land, buried beneath layers of snow, ice, and rock, a hidden chamber lay, shrouded in silence.

The ceiling lights bathed the chamber in a gentle glow, when suddenly the fabric of space warped and a figure emerged, accompanied by a low, resonant hum.

Without a pause, Maverick strode down the long, empty hallway, the soft thud of his shoes on the floor the only sound breaking the silence. At a glance, the space seemed like a perfect cuboid, metallic, plain, and bare in every direction, and Maverick stopped at the far end facing what appeared to be a solid wall.

Yes, at a glance it looked like a solid wall, but to him, every surface and space in this place was anything but empty. Next, he raised a hand, tracing symbols in the air while murmuring in an unfamiliar tongue.

In response, the wall seemed to have shimmered to life, lines of light weaving into intricate patterns that grew brighter until a rectangular section slid open, revealing the space beyond.

Contrary to the plain, unremarkable space behind him, what lay before him was like stepping into the open. Clear skies stretched above, lush greenery spread across the landscape, and a lake glimmered in the distance.

In the distance, birds and animals could be seen moving about, some predators and some prey, forming an ecosystem of their own. In fact, it was a self-sustaining miniature ecosystem, where only the sky and the sun were simulated, while everything else was as real as it could get.

He didn’t stay long inside. Stepping out, he walked to another section of the plain metallic wall and repeated the same motion as before. Once again, an opening formed on its own, and he stepped inside, only this time, he wasn’t alone.

The soft sound of a meow broke the silence, and looking down, he saw a red-ginger cat weaving between his legs. He smiled and let it brush past him, a small, grounding moment in the otherwise sterile chamber.

A few more steps forward, and his face was bathed in a bluish glow, his eyes trembling ever so slightly as they locked onto the source. Only for a moment, though, before calm returned to his expression. Reflected in his pupils was a small glass chamber holding a luminescent object—the Tesseract.

This was his personal sanctuary, a hideout crafted in secrecy and known to no one. A fortress of solitude, carved deep into the northernmost reaches of the world. Hidden beneath layers of earth and ice, it housed things and secrets that, otherwise, his cheat system was unable to accommodate.

The Tesseract, for example, was the most important item here, and it would remain so for the next ten years until he could replicate the space laws from the Space Gem. After that… well, time would tell.

Besides serving as a storage for super rare items, it was also a prison, and right now, a captured Kree soldier was the only occupant confined in one of the rooms.

And of course, there was Goose. The first room he entered was a replica he had created after seeing Newt’s briefcase, thinking a place like that might come in handy someday, and who would have thought it would be needed sooner than he expected.

Goose, therefore, was technically not a prisoner. In fact, the cat was probably living a pretty happy life, reigning at the top of the food chain in the ecosystem pocket. If it were a regular cat, Maverick was certain it would be a very fat one by now.

Anyway, until he fully understood the seemingly harmless kitty’s… tentacle trigger conditions and figured out a way to control them, there was no way it would be allowed outside, let alone left with someone else. Leaving it unattended was out of the question.

At the same time, Goose wasn’t going to stay here forever either. But first, he wanted to see if he could control it—completely. Who knows, maybe eventually have it as a proper pet. After all, it was cute. If he couldn’t control it, then unfortunately, the cat would have to go.

There were still a few days left before school started, so he decided his next stop would be Kamar-Taj. If there was anyone on this planet who could figure out how to fully tame a Flerken, it would most certainly be the Sorcerer Supreme.

If not, well, he’d hand the cat over to her to do as she wished. Still, he hoped she could—he liked the cat and wanted it to be his pet. After all, one never knows when a dangerous enemy might need to be swallowed whole.

“Come on, Goose.” He lifted the cat into his arms and snuggled it, smiling. Leaving the Tesseract behind, he sealed the chamber, and a portal materialized in front of him, opening a path to Nepal. “Let’s go meet a bald auntie.”

-------------

Author’s Note:

Just tidying up some loose ends. That’s the end of the epilogue as well.

Next chapter, we’re heading back to Hogwarts.

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 270 - After the Dust Settles (I)

Somewhere beneath the quiet fields outside Surrey, far from the city noise and eyes of the world, a massive underground laboratory stretched across several levels. Bright white lights hummed softly from the ceiling, casting clean reflections off rows of polished metal counters and glass panels. People in lab coats moved about, focused on their work, some checking computer monitors, others arguing quietly over readings that scrolled faster than most eyes could follow.

Deep inside the facility, in a smaller room on the main floor, three people were seated on two sofas facing each other across a low coffee table, with a single desk standing at the far end, creating a relaxed, almost casual meeting space. One of them, a man with a neat goatee and an easy smirk, let his eyes drift to the right toward the only unfamiliar figure in the room, sitting with arms folded and quietly observing the exchange.

“A genius hand-picked by yourself…” said the man with the goatee, his voice carrying that familiar tone of half-joking arrogance as he slightly turned his head to the other man. “Should I be worried I’ll lose my job, boss Caesar?”

More than a week has passed since the battle that took place over the desert in China. True to form, the governments were working overtime to cover it up, while conspiracy theorists worked just as hard to prove they were lying. It was typical, but in the end the governments always won. It wasn’t the age of smartphones and social media yet, and whatever the mainstream media said, eventually the public would believe, and that was just how the world worked.

Just two days after the skies over China’s desert had been torn apart by mushroom clouds, the World Security Council convened to review everything that had happened. From start to finish, as everything happened so suddenly and obviously, there would be a lot of questions that needed to be answered. And Maverick, who discovered everything, who planned and executed everything, obviously had to take the lead in addressing them.

It was also the first time he addressed the council, and he recounted the events more or less truthfully, careful to leave out anything that didn’t need to be said, and even bending the truth in a few places where no one could prove him wrong.

Things got heated when it came to deciding what was to be done with the Skrulls. Of course, Maverick would not just watch idly by if a decision was made that would end up with the aliens being detained; heck, even Danvers wouldn’t. It was only for the sake of formalities that Maverick had suggested Talos be present.

Apart from explaining why they ended up on Earth, which was basically their group being chased across the galaxy by the, then Kree Star Soldier Danvers, it was also to “enlighten” some idiots that the universe was a lot bigger than they thought and that Earth was certainly not the center of it. The bit about Danvers being brainwashed could not be hidden because records of her military file were already there, but the four Archmagi who participated in the action vouched that she was now cured, and all the influence of the Kree inside her head had all but been removed.

Basically, Talos’s entire testimony was scripted by Maverick to save him the trouble of answering unnecessary questions from the council of world leaders.

Nonetheless, some councilors still argued that he and his group of aliens should remain on Earth as a punishment for attracting such trouble, but fortunately, the suggestion was quickly dismissed by a vote. Talos concluded his testimony by saying he would not stay on the planet long, and that in just a couple of days, once his spaceship completed maintenance, he would leave Earth indefinitely.

Like Talos, Danvers gave her testimony, which matched his completely and left no holes in their story. But when she told the council she would also be leaving Earth along with the leader of the Skrulls, the chamber immediately grew tense, especially with the head of the United States trying to persuade her to stay. Obviously, losing such a powerful asset, particularly one capable of contending with magical archmages, was a blow the muggle leaders did not want to accept, but her mind was made up, and it wasn’t as if they could force her to remain.

The President of the United States even offered her top-level authority within the US military if she wished to serve, but she did not budge. He went so far as to propose giving her a high councilor seat on the World Security Council, yet before the chamber could even vote, Danvers herself declined, saying she wasn’t interested.

With those arguments settled, the council moved on to recounting and discussing input from others who had participated in the battle. Countermeasures were debated, and to the delight of one council member, Piers, the chamber unanimously voted to increase the budget allocated to SHIELD, put more funding into researching countermeasures, and implement the radar technology Talos had promised.

Yes, Talos had indeed promised to share advanced radar systems technology to monitor space around the world. It was also at Maverick’s suggestion, and honestly, it wasn’t much of a concession, just something to have on the table.

Maverick wondered what they would think if they knew the technology had been created by Norex in the back of Maria’s garage in just over a night. But, hey, they were happy with it. He smiled inwardly as he sat in the assembly.

All in all, the assembly mainly focused on countermeasures in case the world faced a similar threat again. The increase in the budget allocated to SHIELD and funding for researching technology to monitor the planet was the main decision that was voted on and passed. The question of whether to come clean to the public was also formally discussed, but the world leaders voted that it was not yet the right time. Typical.

After the assembly ended, Danvers found Fury and went for a secret meeting with him, which Maverick, of course, knew about, but he didn’t bother asking her what it was about. It was probably just giving Fury a way to contact her if he needed her help, basically what had happened in the original story before she left Earth again.

Meanwhile, Maverick took Talos and his people to fulfill the promise he had made, helping them blend into the world. Needless to say, his arrangements were deeply appreciated by the green-skinned, shape-shifting aliens, because it was far better than they had imagined they would receive. Basically, Maverick offered them homes, promised to create legitimate identities, and even set up jobs at his company, giving them things to do so they could live among humans like humans and have a life of their own.

What more could they want? After all, all they had been searching for until now was a chance to live peacefully without worrying about the Kree coming to hunt them down. Now, they were being offered exactly that, and Talos could roam the galaxy as much as he wanted, searching for the rest of his people without any worry. And with the great favor Maverick had done for him, he would not forget to keep an eye out for the thing Maverick had asked him to look for as well.

Finally, with all that settled, Maverick then proposed to Talos that Norex, his science guy, work for him directly, helping with the terraforming project he had been researching.

A couple of days had passed since then, and the Skrulls were settling into their new life, temporary or not, while Danvers and Talos had already left Earth. Today, Maverick finally arrived at the underground lab with Norex to introduce him to Howard, letting the two geniuses meet. Two brilliant minds from different worlds working together—the possibilities seemed endless. Of course, that was assuming they could actually work together, after all, Howard, like his junior, was not the kind of man who liked being told what to do when it came to his area of expertise. Then again, that’s just in the comic books… anyways, time would tell.

“A genius hand-picked by yourself…” Howard said, his voice carrying that familiar half-joking arrogance as he flicked his gaze from Norex to Maverick. “Should I be worried I’ll lose my job, boss man?”

Maverick didn’t take him seriously and simply turned slightly to make the introductions. “His name is Matthew Maher. He’ll be working with you from now on on all ongoing and future projects.”

At that moment, Norex was under the guise of the face Maverick had given him to live as a human on Earth, and Howard had no idea he was even speaking to an alien.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Norex—uh, no, Matthew now—said politely, offering his hand.

“Pleasure. Robert Downey Jr. I like your hair, by the way.” Howard shook his hand but couldn’t resist making a comment. Of course, the hair he was talking about was nonexistent, because Matthew was bald.

Norex… well, he appeared to be in need of some earthly cultural context to catch the sarcasm. Tilting his head and shrugging, he skipped the small talk and went straight to the point. “I’ve been told you are the second-brightest human on the planet… how far along has your research gone?”

Howard’s mouth hung open for a full second before he turned sharply to Maverick. “Did he just call me second? No, wait, why is he talking like he and I are from different species?”

“First of all, I agree with him that you are the second. And second, did you not watch the news?” Maverick asked, one brow lifting slightly. His eyes wandered over the room, taking in the metal walls and the busy researchers at their stations outside. “Why is there not a single TV in the lab?”

“I… will let that offense slide for now.” Howard blinked at him, making a dramatic face, then added, “anyways, why would I install a TV here?”

Maverick just sighed quietly. “That explains a lot. When was the last time you saw your wife?”

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 269 - A Hearth for All (II)

“Do these sorcerers have a purpose then? To be so secretive that even we know so little?”

“They do,” Maverick replied, looking at Maxime. “Think of them as the world’s last line of defense. Their ultimate duty is,” he paused, “to protect the world from any and all extra-terrestrial threats. And I’m not talking about aliens.”

A sarcastic-sounding chuckle echoed after Maverick finished, before someone asked, “What…? Ghosts and demons?”

“Yes, Mr. Fury. Ghosts, demons, djinns, monsters, even the boogeyman,” Maverick said matter-of-factly, a smirk tugging at his lips as he looked at the man.

A moment of silence hung in the air, broken only by the flickering of the fire, before Fury finally found his voice, stripped of all sarcasm. “You… gotta be kidding, right?”

“Agent, look around you. There are literally witches and wizards sitting to your left and right. What’s so hard to believe about ghosts and demons? Even Hogwarts is full of ghosts. I wouldn’t mind giving you a tour even… if the Headmaster doesn’t mind, of course.”

“Not at all. Mr. Agent Fury is welcome at our great school for a tour, provided Professor Caesar accompanies him,” Dumbledore said, shrugging lightly and raising his bottle with a smile.

Though some topics got tense, the atmosphere remained harmonious, the quiet calm under the stars and the bonfire easing the mood.

Time passed unknowingly, and about an hour later, Maverick separated from the group to a quiet spot under a tree. Following him were Danvers and Talos, clearly to discuss something they couldn’t in front of everyone else, and Maverick already had a good idea why.

“Just a sec,” he said, making a few gestures in the air. A moment later, he added, “Alright, you can speak freely now. No one will hear us.”

“Mr. Caesar,” Talos began, hesitantly meeting his eyes, “I was wondering if you might have a Kree spaceship stored somewhere… one I could borrow.”

“Oh… why? Planning to take your people and leave already?”

“This isn’t their world, wizard,” Danvers said, crossing her arms as she watched him tease the poor alien. Who would have thought that just days ago, she had been hunting them across the galaxy, and now she was speaking up for them, even ready to fight for their well-being. “This isn’t their home. This planet can’t, won’t accept them, and I plan to help find them one.”

Raising a brow, Maverick asked, “I understand them wanting to leave… but why you?”

“Like I said, I want to help them find a home,” she repeated, “and to finish what Mar-Vell started.”

“I see…” Maverick didn’t answer immediately, his eyes darting between them for a moment. “I can only give you each a single space pod. I don’t have a ship big enough to carry all of his people.”

“Come on, wizard.” Danvers tilted her head slightly, a half-smile playing on her lips, carrying a subtle hint of challenge. “They might not have noticed what you did in the middle of that chaos, but I did. I saw Ronan’s ship disappear the moment you sent him flying. You hid it, didn’t you?”

“And what if I did?” Maverick replied, matching her smirk. “I’m still not handing over that ship.” He then raised a hand just as Danvers was about to retort. “Instead, how about you both hear my proposal first?”

“Go on…” she said, eyes furrwing.

“It’s actually very simple,” Maverick said, turning to Talos. “I can shelter your people, help build them a home, even take care of their identities… make things official an all.”

“Really?” Danvers asked before Talos could respond. “You would let a group of alien species live here, settle among you? Do you even have the authority to make that decision?”

“First of all, woman, ‘you’ includes you as well. Or do you no longer consider yourself human just because you spent a few years with the Kree?” He didn’t give her a chance to cut in. “And second, yes, I would. As for your last question, it’s just as simple. Other than me, no one else needs to know, right?”

“They’d find out eventually…” Danvers argued. “Now you’re just being careless.” She paused, studying him for a moment, then asked again, “Tell me, what do you really want from sheltering them?”

“Can’t I just want them to have a home?” Maverick shrugged, smiling, but Danvers smirked back, clearly unconvinced.

“Okay, fine,” he said, then turned to Talos again. “Remember what I told you when we first met? That we’d have much to discuss once all this was over?”

“I do,” Talos said.

“I really mean it. I want your people to have a home here, but at the same time, it’s not on Earth…”

Maverick then revealed his plan to terraform Mars, explaining that he intended to build a new home there for magical beings. By the end, their jaws were halfway dropped, and Danvers was even staring at him like he had completely lost his mind.

“You do realize the absurdity of what you’re saying. I spent six years with the Kree, and even then, I’ve never heard of something like that ever happening anywhere in the galaxy.”

“That may be so,” Maverick replied, “but that may also be because you never thought to find out.” He turned to Talos. “What about you? In all your time roaming the galaxy, have you ever heard of planets being terraformed… or if it’s even possible?”

“I’m… afraid not. But… like you said, that may be because we never thought to look. However…” He glanced sideways at Danvers for a moment before adding, “I don’t think what you envision is absurd at all. Since that planet is in the habitable zone, and with advanced technology combined with the power of your world’s magic, it really doesn’t sound impossible.”

“You’re kidding?” Danvers asked, now glancing at Talos as if he were an idiot.

“What? The universe is so big. The possibilities are endless.”

“Exactly, Talos. I’m starting to like you a lot better,” Maverick said, smiling. “Tell you what: you leave your people here with me, and I’ll make sure they’re safe. I’ll find them a place to live peacefully, even help them blend into our society. Meanwhile, the two of you can focus on finding the other Skrulls scattered across the galaxy, and also help me scour the universe for examples of terraforming. I’m sure, like you said, the universe is so vast it must have been done somewhere.”

Danvers and Talos glanced at each other, seemingly in thought, before turning back to Maverick.

“Can you really not hand over the Imperial Cruiser?” Danvers tried one last time. “We’ll only borrow it. Once we find the rest of his people, I promise we’ll return it.”

“I’m sorry,” Maverick said straightforwardly. “My answer is no.” There was no way he was handing over the Kree spaceship before studying the technology inside out, which would take not just a few days or even months.

“Alright then. I agree,” Talos said, seemingly having made the decision at last, though the sigh that escaped his mouth revealed his disappointment. “Until we return, for taking care of my people, I promise to search for the technology to terraform planets as best as I can.”

Danvers let out a sigh and nodded as well.

“Wonderful. And again, even if you can’t find a second home for your people, I welcome them to the new home I’m building for my people.”

“…If you’re actually able to create this… home you speak of.”

“I will, Danvers,” Maverick said with firm conviction. “I have no doubt in my mind that I will succeed.”

Sigh. “Fine.” Danvers let out a long exhale. “I guess you have a lot of explaining to do for your people,” she said, looking at Talos.

“When do you plan to leave?”

“In a couple of days. I want to spend some time with Maria and Monica first. In the meantime, you can follow him and help take care of settling your people. I also have some things to handle with Fury.”

The evening passed just like that, relaxing, sharing stories, and forging bonds between different groups. The X-Men, too, had achieved their objective. The world could not deny that they had helped prevent a catastrophe that could have otherwise destroyed the planet, and their reputation, at least in front of the upper hierarchy, magical or muggle, was greatly improved by their involvement.

And while time passed quietly here, the rest of the world was far from calm. On the Muggle side, governments, particularly those of the superpowers, spent long, sleepless days trying to bury what had happened over the skies of the desert in China. At the same time, in the magical world, perspectives had shifted dramatically after witnessing the events firsthand. Perhaps this was the beginning of the great, rapid change that was about to sweep across the world.

____________

Author’s Note:

Hey everyone, that’s it for this arc. Wow. Before Avengers Assemble, I don’t think I’ll attempt writing something in multiple perspectives again… it ended up making the arc way longer than I expected. I did my best to cover as many plot holes as I could, but hey, I’m not perfect.

I hope you enjoyed this arc. Honestly, I’d probably rate it around a seven, ish, out of ten myself.

One more chapter later, and then we’re back at Hogwarts. There won’t be much happening for the rest of the semester, and I plan to end the year with a time skip, just highlighting key events. Also, reactions for all that happened won’t come all at once, they’ll be revealed gradually as the chapters progress.

Anyway, please leave your feedback. It really helps me a lot. Thank you, as always, for your continued support.

Peace.

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 268 - A Hearth for All (I)

Louisiana.

The setting sun filtered through a blanket of broken clouds above the quiet city. The air was crisp, and the faint scent of wet earth lingered from the afternoon drizzle while golden light spilled across snow-dusted streets, where puddles mirrored the fading fire of dusk and the calm that settled after a long day.

Somewhere in the rural outskirts of New Orleans, a quiet property sat surrounded by open fields and the soft hum of evening cicadas. There, a great banquet was unfolding gently, laughter drifting through the fields as open fires burned low and the smoky aroma of barbecue mingled with the evening breeze.

When Ronan was finally cast out from the planet, Maverick called for a banquet, inviting everyone for a celebration. And for convenience, Maria’s property was once again chosen as the venue. After all, everything had started there, so for a happy conclusion why not end there as well. Besides, the open yard next to her house had plenty of space for everyone, the weather was surprisingly pleasant, and Maria, most importantly, had no complaints, even welcomed the idea.

And thus, with more than one master of transfiguration present, the venue came to life in no time. Tables appeared beneath strings of floating lanterns, grills flared to life, and the finest cuts of meat along with the best drinks from both the magical and muggle worlds were gathered from across the globe. Everyone settled into the quiet quickly, and it was almost impossible to imagine that just hours ago, the people gathered here had confronted and eliminated a threat that could have destroyed the entire world.

“To planet Earth!”

“Cheers!”

Laughter echoed through the evening air as bottles were raised high. Around the glowing grills stood witches and wizards, the X-Men, the Skrulls, Fury, Coulson, and Danvers—about fifty people in all—sharing food, mingling, and enjoying the warmth and comfort of peace hard-won.

"To my student, and his quick thinking," Edward raised his bottle again, a stupid smile spreading across his face. "If it weren’t for you, Rick, the devastation would have been unimaginable before any of us could even begin to act."

“Despite the man boasting about his son-in-law, I can’t deny his remark.” Maxime also raised her bottle for a second time. “Without you,” she said, nodding at Maverick, "things could have gone from bad to worse, and the lives lost would have been unthinkable.”

“To Professor Caesar. Indeed.” Next, Dumbledore raised his glass. “I never thought, after the war all those years ago, that I would once again stand on a battlefield for the future of the world, alongside so many like-minded colleagues…” With a melancholy expression, he looked around the group and offered a sincere smile. “Magicals, mutants, muggles, the danger we faced has, on the bright side, brought together every group and race that represents our world. The world owes you, young man, a great debt.”

Even Takamura blended into the joyous atmosphere. Time passed amid the crackle of the fire, shared drinks, clinking bottles and glasses, and the rich aroma of meat drifting through the air. Soon, a bonfire was lit in the middle of the yard, and everyone gathered around to share their thoughts. Everything—from being summoned to planning the operation and carrying it out—had happened so quickly that it was only natural for many questions to arise, and now it was time for them to be answered.

The X-Jet sat a short distance away, its sleek frame catching the fading light of the sunset. The rear ramp was already lowered, and Hank—the Beast—stepped down, a large, rectangular device slung casually over his shoulder and a wide grin on his face. “We can’t have a proper celebration without some music,” he said, striding toward the group. “Luckily, the X-Jet had a portable one lying around, so I thought I’d bring it along.”

“That sounds wonderful, Doctor,” Dumbledore offered a warm smile, gesturing for him to sit. “Please, some music would be perfect. I’m sure most of our ears are still ringing from all those explosions…”

He played some soft jazz, letting the music make the atmosphere even more relaxing, then settled between Logan and Professor X, popping open a bottle for a drink. “I just saw the news playing on the TV inside the X-Jet.” Taking a fresh, cool sip, he added, “What happened is already making headlines on global networks…”

“Oh… and what are the No-Majs reporting this time?” Edward asked sarcastically, smirking as he took a sip of his own drink. “Let me guess, it’s gas explosions, right?”

“Uh… no, sir. They’re calling it a weapons test by the Joint Nations. The Chinese have already declared the entire desert a no-fly zone.”

Edward chuckled aloud, along with everyone else, as if they had already known that would be the conclusion. “So… a gas explosion.”

“No, sir…” Hank said again, then paused as he finally caught the joke. “Yes,” he added, chuckling as well, “it was a gas explosion.”

Laughter rippled through the group, and the gathering couldn’t have started on a better note.

“Though I think the governments will have a hard time covering it up this time,” Charles Xavier chimed in once the laughter faded. “That desert is known for clear skies all year round, yet now it’s buried under thunderclouds stretching for miles, like the aftermath of a supervolcano eruption.”

“I’m more worried about radiation leaks,” Maria said, glancing at the professor. Then, turning to the alien duo, she asked, “Are we certain there won’t be any?”

At her question, all eyes likewise turned to Talos and Norax, presumably the most knowledgeable when it came to Kree weaponry.

“I’m positive,” Norax explained. “Kree weapons technology doesn’t rely on nuclear fission—or even fusion. It’s an old, long-abandoned method of weaponizing.”

“Did you all really have to destroy every single one of their spaceships?” Fury asked, eyes scanning the group.

“I mean, I’m just saying… we could have learned so much from them. Advanced decades, maybe even centuries ahead in our technology… you know what I mean?”

Damn, the balls on this guy, Maverick thought, glancing at Fury. To his credit, though, it was a fair question, at least from an agent of SHIELD’s perspective. And the subject, Maverick was sure, would come up even more during the World Security Council assemblies, which were bound to be busy in the following days.

Meanwhile, some people exchanged knowing glances with Maverick when Fury raised the subject, but no one said a word. After all, they had seen Maverick pull a single pilot spaceship from his storage ring, and if he had one, there should surely be more.

As for why nobody spoke up, first of all, the magicals don’t want such technology falling into muggle hands. The X-Men, they simply didn’t want to meddle, and in fact, Ororo was the only non-magical person besides Danvers who had seen it happen, and she hadn’t told Professor X just yet. As for Danvers… well, she probably had other plans.

“Simple. They had missiles that were very advanced, far more powerful than anything you No-Majs have, and on top of that, they could track us wherever we went.” Before Maverick could speak, Edward chose to address the subject on his behalf. Looking at Fury, he continued, “At that time, they launched only six, and we barely managed to escape. I don’t have to tell you what happened after they detonated, you saw it from the ground. As far as we know, they have hundreds more in their arsenal, and we couldn’t risk letting any more of them be launched.”

“Teacher is right,” Maverick added. “Ending it as quickly as possible was our only option… to destroy their fleet completely before they could launch any more weapons.”

“Speaking of, little Raven…” Maxime joined the conversation, shifting the subject. “Care to explain that last magic you used? I’ve never heard of, or even read about such a magic in my life.” And in the same breath, she raised her hand. “Of course, if it’s something you can’t explain, you don’t have to. I’m only curious.”

“Wouldn’t you want to know?” Edward scoffed. Although, having said that, he too was just as curious. But being Maverick’s teacher, he could always ask later, and he was sure his student would share it.

The only people who knew were perhaps Dumbledore and his sidekick McGonagall, and they had long been aware of the existence of sorcery. As for how McGonagall, a great mage, knew about it when even some archmagi didn’t—well, naturally, she had learned it from Dumbledore, who shares much with her, trusting her more than almost anyone else.

However, there were other people there as well who knew about the existence of sorcery, apart from Maverick, Dumbledore, and McGonagall. The Flamals, for instance, Maverick was sure, were aware of it, as the Sorcerer Supreme had once mentioned it, but it seemed they were keeping silent about it. But…

“It’s not magic.” Apparently, the old man from Japan was aware of it as well, and everyone turned to Takamura when he spoke up. “Like you mutants, and you,” he said, first glancing between Charles and the others, then stopping at Danvers, “I don’t even know what you are…”

“There are other kinds of extraordinary abilities in the world, besides all of us here,” he continued. “Sorcery, or sorcerers, are in a way like us witches and wizards. They use spells to cast magic, only they don’t draw on magical energy as a source like we do, but something else…”

“Mr. Takamura, you are very well-informed,” Maverick said, raising a brow. He was genuinely surprised the old wizard knew so much about sorcerers. The Sorcerer Supreme hadn’t mentioned it… no, she had hinted that some people were aware of them, but no names were ever given.

Takamura let out a snort. “Boy, I’ve been alive long before your great-great-grandparents. I know more about the forces hiding in our world than you could ever imagine.”

“Right, right, old thing, we get it. You know a lot,” Maxime said, then turned to Maverick again, and all eyes followed.

Sighing, Maverick spoke. “Like Mr. Takamura said, it’s called sorcery… just another form of magic. Unfortunately, I can’t explain any more without their permission—not even to an archmage.” he added, glancing at Maxime.

“Interesting…” Maxime’s eyes gleamed as she leaned forward, her curiosity growing even more. “Is it something you can’t share even with us?”

“I’ll have to side with Professor Caesar here.” And just then, Dumbledore chose to chime in on the subject, perhaps seeing the eager looks on everyone’s faces. After all, who doesn’t want to learn new magic?

“I’m aware of the existence of sorcerers too. They are a very secretive group, much more so than even us. But unlike us, their numbers are fewer. However, they are disciplined, tightly united, and follow a strict hierarchy. As far as I know, only those they choose to reveal themselves to are made aware of their existence.” Dumbledore explained, and in the end, giving a knowing smile to the Muggles, he further added, “I hope… everyone here can keep that in mind.”

“Do they have a purpose, then? To be so secretive that even we know so little?”

“They do,” Maverick replied, looking at Maxime. “Think of them as the world’s last line of defense. Their ultimate duty is,” he paused, “to protect the world from any and all extra-terrestrial threats. And I’m not talking about aliens.”

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 267 - War (VIII)

Silence stretched inside the magical construct that cradled Isabella and her group, yet by no means was it quiet. The sky, quite literally, was burning at this point, thrumming with relentless explosions as the wreckage of battle boiled into ragged, churning thunderclouds that hung heavy over the horizon.

Time dragged forward, each second stretching as everyone’s eyes remained locked on the aftermath, absorbing the terrible beauty and sheer scale of what had just unfolded. Fear, shock, and reluctant admiration spread across the sea of faces, spilling over from those present to those who watched from behind glowing screens, each witness frozen in the same suspended moment of disbelief.

“Is it… finally over?”

Remus Lupin, his face lit orange by the streaks of fire and lightning erupting around him, asked, speaking to no one in particular.

“Unless those blue-skinned bastards have any more of those humongous machines hiding, then yes, I believe that last move from the kid was the conclusion.” Sirius Black, a stretch later, answered his best friend, his pupils reflecting the long trail of burning gas left in the wake of total annihilation.

Suddenly, Isabella lowered her camera, a faint gleam catching in her eyes as she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, her gaze tracing the figure far off in the distance. It was perhaps the first time she had done so. Even in the heat of fending off the countless small aircraft inside the thundercloud she had always kept it pointed, and the people with her all couldn’t help but turn to look at her.

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” Isabella said, shaking her head slightly as she looked at Sarah. “Ricky just told me to cut the feed.”

“Why? Are we heading back?” asked Simon.

“I don’t know.” Isabella looked just as puzzled, but since Maverick had said so, she simply complied without question. Glancing toward him in the distance, she saw that everyone had started to gather near him, so they might as well too. “Let’s go over there.”

Meanwhile, with Maverick.

Now that the threat had been all but annihilated, everyone instinctively converged around him, driven by the twin forces of curiosity and anticipation. He, after all, had been the leader of the entire operation, and plus, they all wanted to see up close this great enemy leader who had been captured by him, the one who had made the entire world hold its breath.

“What do you suggest we do with him, Master Caesar?” Niklas Flamel asked, without even an ounce of fear, as he circled Ronan and glanced briefly at his bloodshot eyes. “Try him in front of the entire world? Imprisonment for life? Or simply… end him?”

“I say break his mind first, extract everything. Who’s to say more of these freaks won’t be coming.” Alastor Moody suggested, and despite sounding bleak, he raised a very good point.

“I’m only a soldier.” Danvers, when Maverick glanced her way, raised her hands before he even asked.

“Ororo?”

“I’m with her.” Like Danvers, Ororo also seemed not to want to involve herself in the decision.

Maverick did not argue with any of them and finally turned to Edward wanting to hear his thought. “Teacher, what do you think?”

“Is he their leader?” Edward asked, scrutinizing the bound prisoner first.

“Yes.”

“If it were up to me,” he said after a moment of thought, arms folding over his chest, “I would… let him go.”

“What nonsense are you spouting, old lion?” Hearing the unexpected answer, especially coming from Edward, whom she knew was decisive in his actions, Maxime couldn’t help but blurt out, “Did someone put you under an Imperius or something?”

“Hear him out first, Olympe.” Dumbledore, though also slightly taken aback at first, understood that there must be a good reason for Edward to suggest such a choice.

Takamura did not chime in, and just furrowed his brow, waiting for Edward to elaborate.

With everyone’s eyes fixed on him, even Ronan, bound yet seething with fury, cast a glance his way as Edward began to explain his reasoning. “First of all, the idea of holding a trial for this invader is pointless. The outcome will surely be either death or imprisonment for life, which, in my opinion, both choices would be meaningless and a waste of time.”

“But I agree with the Brit,” he continued. “We should uncover everything about their world, their empire, and extract every secret from his mind. The existence of extraterrestrial advanced civilizations is something new to both us and the muggle world.”

He paused, then continued, “And as for my opinion on releasing him, it is simply to send a message.” His eyes gleamed dangerously at the imprisoned alien. “Our world is not a place any Tom, Dick, or Harry can invade whenever they please.”

At this point, most of the gathered people had more or less understood Edward’s reasoning.

Listening to his explanation, Maverick nodded thoughtfully, fully agreeing. Initially, his plan was to squeeze everything out of his mind and just burn him, but releasing him to send a message to the Kree Empire sounded more logical.

“Do we need to involve the muggle leaders… ask their opinion as well?” he asked, if only to hear their opinion.

“Ridiculous!”

Takamura was the first to scoff, and judging by the expressions on the others’ faces, it was clear they all thought the same.

“Unnecessary, young Maverick.” Nikolas Flamel, perhaps the oldest and wisest among them all, was also not inclined to consider the muggle world’s opinion on the matter, and he expressed himself decisively. “We can tell them our decision, but their opinion in this is truly not required.”

“Very well then.” With the decision made, Maverick nodded and prepared to extract the memories without dragging things out.

“Wait, are we doing it now?” Maxime asked with a raised eyebrow. “How old is this alien anyway?”

“Several centuries, actually, according to the memories I extracted from their commander earlier. But we only need very specific information, which shouldn’t be difficult or take long.”

After saying, Maverick glanced back at the Kree once more and saw that the visible rage in his eyes had vanished, replaced now by paralyzing fear. During their brief discussion, they had not been subtle, and clearly, Ronan had heard every last word.

What kind of cursed planet was this? He regretted it—truly regretted his actions now. The first thing he vowed in his heart, if he was ever allowed to leave, would be to find the bastard who had written the intelligence of this cursed world.

To make him talk, if it were physical torture, he would have only scoffed at them, for there was no way he would betray his empire and reveal their secrets. But these monsters were talking about literally invading his mind, and so casually like it was nothing to them.

“Accuser…” Maverick said, locking the bulging eyes of the terrified Kree without an ounce of sympathy. “You will tell us everything you know about your empire and its military strength. Every one of their deepest, darkest secrets you know...”

Of course Ronan couldn’t speak at that moment, his tongue held by the curse, and Maverick had only asked to make it easier to navigate the specific memories he needed; while he spoke, his finger was already pressed to the alien’s temple and the spell answered his words a moment later.

Legilimens!

---

Some time later.

Click.

It didn’t take long, around only ten minutes or so, and Maverick was already done extracting what he needed. He then sealed the enchanted bottle, the faint shimmer of stolen memories now swirling inside, and passed it to his teacher, while Ronan could only watch, eyes wide and bulging, as the proof of his violation was carried away before him.

He did not know how, only that he was certain these monsters had done exactly what they had discussed earlier. He, the most loyal soldier of the entire Kree Empire, had betrayed it today, even if the means forced him completely against his will in a way he had absolutely no resistance against.

His blood boiled now more than ever, even more than when he had watched his fleet being annihilated. Revenge. Revenge. He would have his revenge, he made a solemn vow in his mind. Sooner or later, he would have his revenge.

He then saw the monster wave his hand in the air, and suddenly out of nothing a single fighter unit materialized there.

What kind of ridiculous abilities even are these?

Meanwhile, Maverick ignored the questioning stares everyone was giving him. Without a doubt, they were all wondering why he had one of the enemy’s spaceships stored inside his ring—and probably more than one—but he did not care. He did not even glance their way, and simply motioned toward the alien.

The hatch opened at his gesture, and with the next sweep of magic, he shoved the son of a bitch inside. Only after that did he remove the bindings, and with one final flick of his finger, the curse broke, freeing the alien’s twisted tongue as well.

Slowly, Ronan settled into the seat, and surprisingly calmly for someone who had been held prisoner so humiliatingly, not to mention the person in question was renowned for his arrogant character.

“One last thing, Kree,” Maverick said, fixing the Accuser with a cold glare. “You invaded a world under the dominion of whom you should be well aware. So I suggest you first worry about reconciling with them before even thinking about planning your revenge against us.”

He paused briefly, and while releasing a bit of his dominance over the clown, added. “Carry this to your supreme intelligence. Tell them how we humiliated you, how we massacred your fleet, how your proud cruisers fell like flies at our vanguard. Tell your leaders you did not escape. You were spared. Remember this, Kree. C-53 will hold your empire to account. Our retaliation is certain, with or without the Allfather.”

“Now, scram!”

The Accuser listened to every word in silence, enduring Maverick’s scornful and humiliating speech without a sound. Perhaps he had nothing to retort with—after all, every word of contempt he heard was, whether he liked it or not, true. Or perhaps he was simply too terrified that these monsters would change their minds if he dared speak back.

Regardless, when it ended, he offered only a cold, wordless glare. Then he turned away, sealed the hatch, and ignited the engines, vanishing into the sky.

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 266 - War (VII)

Eldritch Magic. There were countless spells within the sorcery system that could be used, but to get the job done efficiently, he had already thought of the perfect move, and it wasn’t even a proper spell. Or rather, for this particular situation, he didn’t need something complex or ceremonial, because the simplest use was enough, just the raw act of conjuring cosmic energy itself.

He recalled the scene from Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, where the doctor sliced a bus clean in half with an arc of Eldritch energy shaped like a spinning disk, and that single move sparked an idea. If Stephen could do it, why couldn’t he, the cheater, do the same? Surely, he couldn’t be worse, at least not when it came to the simplest manipulation of the Eldritch current.

Of course, he wasn’t under the illusion that he was on the level of Sorcerer Supreme Strange, even if the system had allowed him to take shortcuts in learning spells and the basic manipulation of Eldritch energy. He had spent just half a month studying sorcery, and of that, perhaps only a week had been devoted to spells, and even then, the spells he had learned were very selective and specific.

Strange, on the other hand, possessed a knowledge of spells that was near limitless. There probably wasn’t a book in the sanctum libraries he hadn’t read, and his arsenal, combined with the countless ways he could weave and implement them, was what made him such a powerful sorcerer. And that wasn’t even counting the Time Stone and the Eye of Agamotto.

But if it came down to shaping and directing raw Eldritch energy, he was confident he could match the doctor’s level of control. By now, he had developed a solid understanding of the levels the system set for levels of proficiency. And advanced level, in simple terms, was a very, very high level of mastery, which was exactly where his current level of Eldritch Meditation stood.

Having said that, he hadn’t really pushed his advanced-level Eldritch energy manipulation in practice either. Well, until now. Wasn’t this the perfect setup?

As he floated in the middle of this apocalypse, surrounded by thundering mushroom clouds and burning, exploding titanic-sized spaceships, he found himself wanting to replicate that same feat Doctor Strange had done so casually, only this time on a far grander scale.

“Honey, make sure you get a good shot of my handsome face. I’m about to go all out.”

After sending a mental message to Isabella, he got into position, spread his legs, and slowly lifted his hands, letting them move apart with his fingers curling as if drawing something in the air. Soon, a golden-orange glow appeared between his palms, spinning into a ring of light that pulsed with a low hum and shaped itself into a disk with sharp edges, perhaps even sharper than any blade forged from metal.

It was one of the first things the Sorcerer Supreme had taught him: how to shape cosmic energy into a tool of choice. It could be a weapon, a shield, or, in this case, his choice was a very, very sharp disk-slash-boomerang.

Concentrating, he extended his arms further outward, fingers flexing as he shaped the energy, while from the corner of his eyes he tracked the enormous Kree battleships ahead, now in chaotic disarray since their command had been taken out of the equation.

To their credit, they appeared extremely loyal to the warmonger, with none of them activating their thrusters to escape even after Ronan had been taken out. Or it could just be that they were simply at a loss for what to do, as the escalation from one disaster to the next was far beyond what they had been trained to handle.

But that suited Maverick perfectly. At this moment, to him, they were like sheep in a pen, completely trapped and ready to be slaughtered one by one.

The ring of energy between his palms had now taken shape, and next he needed to feed it more power. He pushed his hands forward, and as his mind focused, the disk began to swell—slowly at first, then faster—expanding outward, thrumming with energy, stretching and stretching until it reached a diameter of about a hundred meters, a monstrous spinning blade of execution looming above his head.

Sparks of Eldritch energy crackled along its edges, and light reflected off the hull, glinting like molten gold across its armored surface. He then tilted his head slightly, adjusting the disk’s angle with subtle wrist movements to ensure it would strike the prey perfectly before releasing his hold.

Although it wasn’t a complex spell, shaping something this large and powerful was no small feat, and he could barely spare a thought for anything else. But the tool of his choice was now ready, and it was time to unleash it.

Leaning into the motion, he pushed his hands forward as if he were moving something heavy, slowly and steadily. And with the push, the monstrous blade of pure energy looming over his head also began to arc through the air, likewise, slowly at first.

“Haa!”

A cry of power escaped his lungs. Gathering all his strength, he jerked forward, and the spinning monstrous blade also, as if released from a slingshot, streaked forward cutting through the sky like a boomerang. The sound of the energy, the spin of burning air, echoed like a piercing shreeee, spreading wide, and everyone paused, unable to resist turning their heads.

The hum then became a roar as the disk struck its first target. Like a razor slicing steel, it carved through the immense structure with surgical precision, cutting it cleanly in half as effortlessly as a sharp knife through butter.

SHREEE!

Everyone, friend or foe, whether present or watching from afar, widened their eyes. It was simply… too clean.

The titanic spaceship split down the middle, molten metal spilling from the wound, and just a second later—BOOOOM!—it exploded completely, sending a shockwave of fire and force tumbling across the battlefield.

But the disk of execution did not stop there. Maverick’s hands moved continuously, fingers at precise angles, guiding the monstrous blade toward the next target, and, just like the previous one, it cleaved the ship cleanly in half.

BOOM! Exploded.

BOOOM! The next one.

BOOOM! Again.

BOOOM! And again.

“What sort of madness is this magic?” Takamura exclaimed in his own language, apparating immediately to a safe distance and taking cover from the aftermath, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and reverence as he watched the efficient execution unfold like a chain reaction. He, too, had taken down a few of those behemoths, but never with such speed or precision.

The others, who had been raining explosive spells one after another, also apparated to a safe distance and simply watched in reverence—some with awe, some with fear, and some with pride.

Dumbledore couldn’t help but raise an intrigued brow. Sorcery was not foreign to him, and he had already seen Maverick create the portal several times since the operation began. Of course, he was curious and had more than one question to ask, but that could wait until all of this was over. Regardless, what he had just witnessed was truly eye-opening, and once school started, there would be plenty of time for a proper chat with the young man, who clearly had some intriguing tales to tell.

SHRRRREEEEEEEEEE!

BOOOM! BOOOM! BOOOM!

One after another, without pause, like a saw of infinite sharpness and endless energy, everyone watched with wide eyes and shock as Maverick’s single attack shredded Ronan’s massive fleet, ripping through the ships like they were nothing but paper under a blade of fire.

Explosions tore across the sky, sending shockwaves that rattled the ground and shook the air. Before long, a blazing ribbon of fire and smoke stretched across the horizon, blotting out the sun for miles and turning the battlefield into a storm of light and heat.

---

IMPOSSIBLE! IMPOSSIBLE! IMPOSSIB—

Boom! Crack... Woosh!

Like everyone else, Ronan and Danvers had also paused their fight, watching the unimaginable chaos and total destruction unfolding before their eyes. While Danvers watched with awe and a sense of satisfaction, Ronan, on the other hand, had completely lost his mind as he witnessed the complete annihilation of his entire fleet.

He could not comprehend how or why it was happening. Or perhaps his subconscious simply refused to accept it. His fleet—his proud, all-powerful fleet that had struck terror across countless civilizations, countless worlds—how could it fall so utterly, so humiliatingly, so completely powerless here?

Here, this world, this primitive, backward world—how could he be defeated here? He screamed frantically, but Danvers, after enduring the first few cries of madness from the warmonger, had enough.

While Ronan wallowed in his misery, she lunged to his side like a streak of lightning, aiming for a decisive strike. Perhaps, triggered by Maverick’s spectacular fireworks, she also wanted to end it in a single blow. When she lunged, she unleashed everything into the punch, smashing it squarely against the Kree clown’s jaw and cracking a solid chunk of his teeth.

And, coincidentally, or perhaps deliberately, the force of the punch sent him flying like a cannonball... straight toward Maverick.

---

Booom… Booom…

Booom… Booom… Booom… Booom…

Huff… huff.

Bright orange light from the titanic explosions illuminated Maverick’s face as he gasped for breath, looking like someone who had just finished a marathon. Even the smile on his lips showed he was deeply satisfied in that moment, much like a runner who had finally crossed the finish line.

But it wasn’t tiredness or fatigue from burning through his stamina that made him gasp. It was more like holding his breath to the absolute limit—a temporary, fleeting strain. His brain had worked overtime just now, maintaining the momentum and structure of the enormous cosmic construct until it had harvested every single spaceship.

Regardless, the job was done—and dare he say it, even better than he had anticipated.

Incredible. Truly incredible. He wondered how much stronger he would become if he took his Eldritch Meditation from advanced to mastery-level proficiency. Was that the level the Sorcerer Supreme had achieved?

And just as those random thoughts crossed his mind, his magical sense suddenly flared, detecting an incoming presence, and his head turned instinctively toward the source.

It… was Ronan. The clown he had sent hurling toward Danvers, hurling back at him like a cannonball.

But that wasn’t important now. Brushing the thought aside, he drew in one last deep breath, raised his hand, eyes narrowing, and locked them on the bastard rocketing toward him.

Wooosh-Hummm!

Magical energy flared, and midair, Ronan—half his teeth missing—came to an abrupt halt, as if he had slammed into an invisible wall. What was even more unbelievable was that, despite everything, he still clung to his hammer as if it were part of his arm.

Well, not for long.

Moments later, the blue-skinned freak blinked as the stars spinning over his head faded and his vision cleared. The first thing he saw was that dreadful palm again, and a shiver raced down his spine.

But then he realized—it hadn’t grabbed his face this time. No, this was worse. He was being held in place by some invisible, incomprehensible force.

“You!” His blue eyes flared bloodshot as he struggled.

It was this bastard who had caused all of it. If he hadn’t been dragged from his command deck and forced to clash with that madwoman, his fleet would never have met such a catastrophic end.

Along with his fury, the hammer in his hand began to hum with power, as if echoing its master’s rage. But no matter how much he struggled, the invisible force binding him didn’t yield, not even an inch.

Then suddenly…

Arrrrhhhh… a guttural growl tore from his throat as a scorching pain surged through his hand. He couldn’t move his head, but his pupils darted down just in time to see his own arm rising against his will, the hand clutching the hammer trembling violently.

“What… are you—”

Arrrhhhh… crack… crack… The words twisted into agony as a bolt of pain shot through his nerves. One by one, the bones in his fingers began to snap, each break forcing his grip to weaken, loosening his hold on the hammer.

The Accuser struggled, mustering all his power to resist. He glared, perhaps trying to intimidate or do something with his usual arrogant pride, but all he saw in those eyes staring back at him was complete, and cold indifference.

Never, never in his long, battle-scarred life had he been so completely humiliated like this.

All he could do was growl miserably as one hand—belonging to this monster whose name he didn’t even know—reached toward him in a gripping motion, holding him with some invisible force, while the other moved, and as its fingers flexed, he felt his own breaking from the inside.

“YOU… YOU DARE! YOU DARE—”

He growled with raw malice, but even that was stolen from him when the monster made a lazy flick of his finger, and his tongue twisted unnaturally inside his mouth, sticking to the roof and leaving him unable to utter a sound—just a growl.

Arrrrrrhhhh… crack… crack.

Two more fingers broke. Now only his thumb held the hammer. Then, crack—it too shattered, and the hammer, under Ronan’s red, furious, and terrified eyes, floated slowly toward the monster.

“Hmm… nice toy.”

He finally heard the bastard’s voice, but now more than fury, he felt terror. Without his hammer—or even with it—his subconscious, his battle-hardened instincts, screamed that he would be no match for this monster, even if fought fairly. A single motion held him captive by a force he could only describe as telekinesis, completely at the man’s mercy.

Meanwhile, Danvers slowed her speed and arrived just in time to see the hammer vanish… simply disappear out of nowhere. She only raised a brow at the sight, having seen far stranger things, and turned her gaze to Maverick, who met her look.

“It’s over…” she heard him say.

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 265 - War (VI)

Whoosh!

Boom!

The air split apart, a thunderous shockwave rippling behind Maverick as he shot toward the largest ship on the horizon. His magical sense stretched forward, probing through the thick metal hull, and when he drew close, the view through the glass viewport aligned perfectly with the image pulsing in his mind.

And in the same breath, his eyes fixed on the blue-skinned brute, clad in samurai-style armor, face painted like a clown, a shiny oversized hammer gripped tightly in his hand.

His grin widened, and without hesitation, he thrust his arm forward—and vanished from the spot. To take the large Imperial cruiser into the independent expanded dimension, he first had to clear out everything that was breathing inside, starting with the Accuser himself.

As for whether or not the titanic spaceship would fit, well, the system notes say that the replicated space from Scamander’s suitcase has a volume capacity of one thousand cubic meters, so he wasn’t worried.

Woosh!...

Woosh!

After apparating inside, only a small fraction of a second passed, and he reemerged once again with Ronan in hand—literally. And in that same heartbeat, his magical sense flared catching Danvers blazing toward him like a comet, so without another thought he spun, swung the hand gripping the alien clown, and with the momentum hurled the bastard like a baseball straight at her.

“Catch! Keep him busy! And don’t attack the main ship!” He sent her a mental communication, and Danvers, the moment his voice rang in her head, wore a bewildered expression at the sudden, out-of-nowhere instructions.

Catch? Keep him busy? What the hell does that even mean?

But just as quickly, she recognized what—no, who—had been thrown at her, and her crayzy instincts immediately took over, prompting her to pull her arm back and charge it with energy.

Danvers, smash—uh… wrong script. Whatever!

Clearly, this hot-blooded woman had more or less understood the assignment, and Maverick, the moment he hurled Ronan like a cannonball and sent the message, had already vanished back into the command deck.

In fact, from first apparating into the cruiser, to greeting Ronan with utmost respect, to escorting him out, and finally to his heartfelt farewell—it had all happened in just a second, maybe two. Inside the deck, Ronan’s lieutenants had barely begun to process what had just happened, let alone react, when Maverick appeared once again.

This time, though, he did not take any action just yet. Standing in the middle of the deck, he first glanced around at the futuristic panels and controls, nodding internally with approval. Then, as his gaze swept across the very, very confused bunch of Kree grunts surrounding him, he began to count: one… two… twelve on the deck… thirty-seven in total onboard.

With the aid of his magical sense, he scanned the aircraft from bow to stern, while the Kree soldiers around him gradually began to shake off their daze and, seeing the intruder, instinctively raised their wepons.

Click, click, click.

Blasters clicked into ready positions, but no one dared to fire. Maybe it was confusion. Maybe it was fear. Either way, the silence held, until at last, one of them forced out the words trembling on all of their lips.

“You…” The Kree soldier’s hands shook as he tried to maintain a stern posture. “What… what did you do with the general?”

The colorful stripes on his uniform showed he was the highest-ranking among the group. He, like every other Kree here, wasn’t an ordinary soldier—anyone on the same deck as Ronan had to be one of his elite, trained to face any threat without fear. Yet even he couldn’t stop his body from trembling. Because sometimes, it is the unknown that terrifies far more than any enemy one can comprehend.

After all, too many inexplicable and terrifying things had happened in the short time since they had entered this cursed planet. First, their mobility, the entire arsenal of single-unit fighters had been wiped out, and then it was their general—the one person they believed from the bottom of their hearts to be invincible—who had been taken out of the equation.

After withdrawing his magical sense, Maverick finally turned to the trembling creature that had asked the question. Seeing its terrified face, his grin only widened, and the moment their eyes met, the alien felt as if it were staring at a ferocious beast, nearly losing all strength in its trembling legs.

“Are you... the highest commander after the Accuser, Ronan?”

“I… I am…” the soldier answered almost instinctively, as if his subconscious were no longer under his control.

“State your name, and do you have full authority to operate this spaceship?” Maverick pressed, ignoring the alien’s terrified, confused expression while weaving even more Confundus magic into his rapid-fire questions.

“Tal… Tal Renn. I… I know… how to operate...”

The Kree, now identified as Tal Renn, had no explanation for what was happening. Why was he answering question after question? Wasn’t he supposed to be interrogating the intruder?

But then all he heard was, “Good,” and the next thing he saw was the monster in front of him, its eyes gleaming crimson like a demon from hell.

The vision before him turned to a red hue, as if a filter had been laid over his eyes, and a heavy, suffocating oppression washed over him, pounding his brain from the inside, until he finally managed to take a breath—when suddenly, he felt something slump onto his shoulder.

“Wha…?” he mumbled, turning his head, and saw that it was his comrade beside him who had collapsed onto him, as if he had just lost consciousness.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Not just one— all around him, he saw his comrades collapsing. Some hit the floor, some slammed into panels, some fell face-first, and others toppled into their chairs. Everyone except him was falling, their eyes rolling back as they slipped into unconsciousness.

“Wh-what’s… happening…” His mind tried to process, but it was all happening too fast, too inexplicably.

All he knew was that it must have something to do with the intruding monster. Gradually, very slowly, he turned his neck toward the demon—only to see a single finger pointed inches from his temple, just as the sound of an unknown language, like a reckoning, echoed like a monstrous bell through his eardrums.

I-M-P-E-R-I-O-!

What happened next, he had no idea and perhaps he never would, before whatever had taken over his mind and body was done with him and sent him to the cycle of reincarnation.

Meanwhile, blazing pockets of infernos were emerging from all over the spaceship, but apart from the sound of something being rapidly incinerated, no other sound came. One, two... thirty-six places in total the terrifying fire materialized, but what’s most incredible was that apart from their intended targets, nothing else was implicated in their wake, not even the paint on the metal floors was affected.

“Disable, completely turn off all the communication, any signals going out of the cruiser, and completely turn off all its engines!”

A few minutes later, a circle of sparkling orange appeared on the deck, and Tal Renn, the only Kree still breathing, blacked out as well. But unlike his buddies, he did not turn into nothingness; bound at the arms and legs like a mummy, he fell into the portal and disappeared to who knows where.

Now, only Maverick remained. Taking one last look around, he crouched down, placed both palms on the metal floor, and concentrated.

“Come on, daddy system. Don’t let me down.” Maverick muttered, brows creasing, and suddenly he felt everything around him change as if he had been teleported somewhere else. All around he saw chaos, explosions, energy blasters going off, and in the distance he could see three more mushroom clouds taking up the horizon, the scene which could only be described as an apocalypse.

In fact, he had not been teleported anywhere, and what had happened was that the spaceship he was in had disappeared. Obviously, his plan had succeeded and had scored him something really cool.

Boom!
Booom!

Just as the thought came and the corner of his lips curled up involuntarily, suddenly, two successive shock waves hit him that came from not very far.

“Interesting…”

What he saw was honestly not something he expected. The Accuser Ronan was taking on Carol Danvers in midair, hammer against fist, as they streaked like two living comets across the chaotic clouds.

He wasn’t surprised that Ronan’s armor, ugly as it might look but still the Kree empire’s advanced technology, had thrusters or tech that allowed him to fly, but that he, or more accurately, his hammer, was able to take on Danvers’s overpowered blows.

Hmm… should I ask Ronan to donate the hammer for charity as well?

And just as he was about to go and “negotiate” with the Kree general, the air near him rippled, warping, and suddenly two figures appeared close to him on his left and right.

“Where the hell have you been, kid?”

His teacher, Edward, looked like he had just had a brawl with a beast, his majestic mane of hair disheveled and even showing some burns.

“I took care of their command center. And…” he gestured toward the midair fight happening between Ronan and Danvers, “that’s their commander. Danvers is dealing with him.”

“Will these aliens be firing any more of those weapons?”

The other person was Dumbledore, but unlike Edward, the old wizard appeared his usual self. Appearance wise, at least nothing had changed.

“I don’t think so. But we should hurry and destroy the remaining spaceships as well.” He paused, thinking of something, glanced at the two of them again and added, “Destroy them completely. I don’t want any of the alien technology falling into muggle hands.”

The two of them did not argue about the point. In fact, they firmly agreed. The muggle advancement is already growing rapidly, and they didn’t want a catalyst added on top.

“I will relay the message to the others,” said Dumbledore, and with one last nod he moved toward the nearest titanic.

“Uh... teacher. What happened? Did you try to see if you could take on the explosion instead of destroying them from long range?” After Dumbledore left, Maverick turned to his teacher, and while an involuntary smirk curled his face, he asked Edward.

“Nonsense! The shock wave came too fast and I just managed to apparate a little late.” His teacher said, crossing his arms over his chest, and then disappeared from the spot before he could ask anything else.

Chuckling, Maverick took one last look around before he, too, sprang ready into action. It really did, for lack of a better word, look like an apocalypse was happening here. Mushroom clouds that had turned into an inferno of thunder were in all directions, closing the space.

From below or even from above it would look like doomsday territory if they pointed their satellites or telescopes here. Any and all monitoring stations around the world would be blaring alarms about this area.

Not far from him, the fight raged on: Danvers versus Ronan. Around him, a third of the fifty spaceships were either on fire, half-destroyed, or completely obliterated. The six nukes Ronan had launched initially had detonated—one on the fleet and the rest scattered in different directions, circling the area.

Below them, the shockwaves from the nuke-like weapons had almost completely dissipated the thunderclouds, but the fighter units Ronan initially launched had almost entirely been wiped out, and some of the great magi were already raining their explosive spells on the large fleet along with Takamura and Olympe.

The only people missing were the X-Jet, which, after consideration, had flown back since their involvement would have been more of a distracting liability than any help.

And finally, somewhat further away, he saw his fearless lioness flanked by Ali, Sarah, Simon, Remus and Sirius, recording everything that was happening and broadcasting it to the entire world.

Taking a long breath, he too focused. Direct, most explosive, or most efficient. He thought of several ways to cause maximum damage to the large spaceships, and finally decided on one.

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 264 - War (V)

Rumble!

Flash!

Thunder... rumble, rumble!

Millions of eyes stayed glued to their screens, watching in breathless silence as the heavens burned. Fire streaked across the sky, lightning split the clouds, and explosions rippled through the storm like strobe lights in the dark. Every flash, every roar, every flicker of destruction was captured through enchanted lenses and microphones, sending the chaos in perfect clarity to every corner of the magical world.

At the heart of it all were five—fearless, perhaps reckless, or even touched by madness—five individuals. Surrounded by four of the magical world’s finest, Isabella Garling streamed live the confrontation without hesitation. Between spells and firestorms, as chaos tore across the battlefield, her group wove through the fury, dodging, twisting, and slipping between bursts of power, striking back only when danger came too close.

Thunderbirds commanded the heavens, phoenixes rained fire from above, mortals streaked through the sky like blazing meteors, and mutants bent thunder and lightning to their will. Witches and wizards cut through the battlefield like comets, their masterful spells obliterating everything in their path. The enemy swarm, countless in number, was no match for the combined, unprecedented offensive of Earth, and in a matter of minutes, it was reduced to smoking scrap.

At this point, the chaos had calmed by more than half.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the five speakers have moved on to a new battlefield, while the remaining forces are still being held back by the Greatmagi and our mutant allies. We’re going to try to bring you live footage from above, so stay tuned. And if I had to guess… what we’ve seen so far is just the opening act. The real fight is about to begin.”

Isabella’s voice, calm but charged with urgency, streamed across the magical networks, keeping a world of viewers on the edge of their seats.

“Teacher Simon, please take us over the storm…” Isabella made her decision and glanced at the three Greatmagi keeping the magical construct steady, navigating their group as they recorded everything.

At her words, Simon’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the chaos unfolding around them. “Are you sure about this?”

His hesitation was not without reason, one, she was his master’s only daughter, and two, above them awaited the main enemy forces: fifty titanic metal monstrosities, bristling with unknown weapons.

The first wave of enemy attacks had not yet been fully neutralized, with more than a dozen Greatmagi still tearing through the battlefield, destroying unit after unit. It should be noted that each Greatmagi was a powerhouse, second only to the eight Archmages, and yet the enemy had already kept them all on full alert, completely occupied just by the first wave of attacks.

Who knew what other means the enemy possessed, or whether they had even stronger, more direct methods of destruction waiting.

“I’m sure. But just in case,” Isabella replied firmly, “like we did here, we’ll keep a safe distance. If things start going south, we apparate out immediately—”

“Over there!”

“I’ve got it, Moony!”

Boom!

Sirius Black blasted a flaming scrap of metal streaking toward them and smirked. His face, twisted in that signature chaotic grin, looked nothing like someone panicked—it was more like someone who had just survived the wildest party of their life.

“Just do as the boss lady says. We’ve got the three of you, plus me and Moony here. Why so much talking?”

“Black, you better wipe that smug grin off your face. This is no time for smirking.” Ali’s eyes pinned the reckless moron, trying to inject some sense into him. Lives were at stake, and he couldn’t fathom how this fool could take it all so lightly.

“Ehem, gentlemen and ladies, let’s focus on a decision.” Remus interjected, covering for his friend, then leveled a look at the reckless idiot. “Padfoot, zip it and focus on only why you’re here... covering us and taking out anything that comes our way. Merlin, I already regret dragging your hound ass here.”

“Enough!” Sarah, Simon’s twin counterpart, cut in sharply. She shot a quick glare at Black, then turned to her brother and Ali. “We do as Bella said. Take us up and out of the thundercloud.”

Their momentary quarrel wasn’t really an argument—more like nerves snapping under pressure. Being in the middle of an apocalypse could make anyone’s tongue sharper than usual.

Anyways, with the decision made, the magical construct shot upward through the roaring storm, cutting through thunder, lightning, and fire. Under Ali and Simon’s control, it twisted through the chaos, dodging arcs of energy until, finally, they burst free from the darkness above.

But then—

BOOOOOOOMMM!

“Bloody hell!”

“Hold your magic! Keep the structure stable! Remus, layer us with a Protego!” Sarah shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos as she barked orders.

A shockwave had hit them like a heavenly hammer, shaking the entire construct and nearly tearing apart the magic that kept them afloat.

Isabella nearly dropped her camera and fell on her butt, but Sarah caught her just in time.

It came without warning—a roar so loud it felt as if the heavens themselves had turned over. Even the thunderclouds below were half-scattered, shredded apart by the sheer force of the explosion.

“What... the hell is that!?”

Sirius, who was also thrown off balance, crouched low and stared toward the horizon. His eyes widened, reflecting a distant blaze—a towering mushroom cloud rising into the sky, the undeniable mark of a massive explosion.

---

“That’s the direction the Headmaster went…”

Bursting through the sky like a meteor, Maverick zigzagged through the air—sometimes apparating, sometimes stopping midflight—as he led a nuke-hot missile away from the area.

Ronan, that bastard, had somehow programmed the missiles to lock on and hunt them—six against six. Fortunately, their maneuverability wasn’t limited to just flying, they could jump through space as well. Otherwise, no matter how skilled each of them was, they would have been in serious trouble.

When a loud shockwave slammed through the air, he glanced to the side and saw which one had detonated — the same direction Dumbledore had gone. The plan had been simple: scatter, draw the missiles away, and destroy them from range.

That old man should be alright, right…

With that thought, he extended his magical senses, and soon enough, he picked up Dumbledore’s aura burning bright in the distance. Good. The plan was holding. Now he just hoped the others would handle their tails too.

Still weaving through the clouds, Maverick kept luring his missile away from the area, preparing to detonate it—until a thought struck him.

“Idiot,” he muttered to himself.

A simpler, far more effective solution, one that could even solve two problems at once, struck him so sharply he nearly smacked his forehead.

He twisted his head back, eyes darting first to the warhead hot on his tail, then to the fleet of fifty massive Kree cruisers shimmering in the distance.

A slow, knowing grin tugged at his lips as he made the decision and came to a sudden halt midair, facing the incoming missile. With a sharp flick of his hand, a portal shimmered into existence before him, and whoooosh!

The missile shot straight through without slowing, and at the same moment, a second portal opened near the rear of the Kree fleet, blasting the missile out to slam directly into one of the massive cruisers.

As expected of an alien nuke, the explosion tore through the cruiser in a blinding flash, obliterating it completely and scorching even a fraction of the nearby ships, lighting up the sky in a cataclysmic inferno.

The shockwave had yet to reach him, and all he saw was a blinding flash—but that was enough. And just then, to the east, another flash also erupted, and he turned, recalling that it was the direction where Danvers had led her warhead. He had no doubt the woman could survive that, even without teleportation abilities like theirs, and soon enough, he caught the sight of an orange streak bursting out from it faster than the mushroom cloud was expanding.

So that's three down already, and three more to go.

The rest should be fine as well, he thought to himself, and with a boom, he shot toward the Prime cruiser at the front, where Ronan himself should be.

As for why he didn't target that one first—well, he obviously wanted to keep it for himself. The center ship, just from a glance, looked much bigger than the rest and appeared to be the most advanced among Ronan’s fleet of spaceships he brought with him.

---

Meanwhile, inside the command deck of the prime Imperial cruiser, the scene had descended into utter chaos. Ronan’s arrogance had long since vanished, replaced by a mixture of anger and sheer disbelief at the unfolding disaster.

This was supposed to be an easy mission, yet everything was unraveling faster than he could process. First, the entire arsenal of fighter pods he had brought with his fifty-ship fleet was obliterated without warning. And now, the ballistic warhead he had programmed to hunt had somehow annihilated nearly a third of his own ships.

What the hell was up with this planet? he thought, and for a fleeting moment, he even considered asking his lieutenants if they had arrived at the wrong world.

Alarms screamed everywhere as he sat in dumbfounded contemplation, red warning lights painting the command deck in a frantic, almost violent glow. Soldiers skidded across the floor, boots clanging against metal, while holographic panels flickered and sparked in protest.

Even without striking them directly, the nuke that hit the rear of the fleet still unleashed a shockwave that tore through the hulls of every surviving ship, rattling consoles and sending loose equipment flying across the decks in wild, chaotic arcs.

Officers barked orders that were swallowed by the cacophony of warning sirens, smoke curling from ruptured conduits as sparks rained down. Faces twisted in disbelief and fear, some pressed desperately against controls, others froze, eyes wide, trying to comprehend the devastation outside.

“QUIET!”

Finally, the accuser could no longer contain his fuming rage, and he screamed across the deck, momentarily halting the chaos. Only, the panicked clamor of soldiers died down, but the alarms and warning indicators continued to flare relentlessly around them.

Rising from his obsidian throne, Ronan gripped his hammer tightly, and with heavy, deliberate thuds, he took a few steps forward.

“Damage report. NOW!”

“Re-reporting, sir.” One of his lieutenants snapped to attention under the blaring alarms. “Seven cruisers down. Thirteen reporting heavy damage—”

“Commander!” another soldier shouted, jerking away from a screen as his gaze locked on the commander.

“WHAT?!”

“I… I found an incoming, sir,” the soldier stammered, his words faltering under the furious glare of the ruthless commander. “Unidentified… entity, heading straight for the prime ship.”

“Entity?”

“No heat signature, sir… I can only assume it’s biological.”

“Then move the ship, you fools! Relay the command to every unit. Do I need to spell out the simplest countermeasures?!”

Ronan’s furious roar shook the command deck, and immediately, the room erupted in frantic activity. Soldiers scrambled over consoles, toggling switches and fiddling with failing controls as alarms blared around them.

“Bring up the feed. Locate this... thing. I want visuals!”

“Already on it, sir,” came the reply.

The deck vibrated as the engines roared to life, ready for maneuver. Ronan’s eyes stayed locked on the main screen, which was still nothing but static—until, after a tense moment of fumbling with the controls, the soldier finally brought the image to life.

Human?

The Accuser’s eyes narrowed, and almost instantly, his mind snapped to the next course of action. Does it matter?

“Target the energy blasters!” he ordered.

At his command, the soldiers moved without hesitation, like a well-drilled unit, gripping their controls and readying their weapons.

For some reason, Ronan felt a sudden unease the moment he saw that face streaking toward them like a comet, eyes locked on the camera—especially when that almost amused smile played across the human’s lips.

On the display, as he waited for the target to come into range, he saw the man’s hand move. One arm shot forward suddenly, and immediately, the bad premonition crawling up his gut surged tenfold.

“FIRE! All units, fire!” he shouted, the heavy hammer swinging in his hand almost without thought.

But before his soldiers could even touch their weapon controls, the screen changed again. Reflected in his blue pupils, the figure had… vanished, suddenly. And just as he registered the change, once again reflected in his pupils, a hand appeared—just inches from his face.

Time itself seems to have frozen around him. His eyes widened, his pupils dilated… and before he could even move, that very hand had grabbed his face.

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 263 - War (IV)

Sometime earlier, aboard the Prime Imperial Cruiser, Command Deck:

Ronan lounged upon his obsidian throne, one hand resting against his chin while the other drummed idly against the armrest. Before him, the vast holographic display projected the swarm of six hundred assault units slicing through Earth’s upper atmosphere, descending like judgment incarnate—an execution of his decree upon a doomed world.

“Let these primitive apes witness the might of the Kree Empire,” his deep voice rolled across the chamber while his face betrayed no emotion beyond pure arrogance, as if superiority itself had taken form in him.

Around him, the bridge crew moved efficiently, the air filled with the rhythmic hum of machinery and the faint buzz of alien communication feeds. On the central display, hundreds of blue markers danced across a holographic projection of Earth’s atmosphere.

But then, one after another, abnormal anomalies began to occur. The visual feeds from the units started to flicker, static distorting the images until they were swallowed entirely. One feed vanished, then another, and another.

“What is this— we’re losing visuals!” one officer shouted, his hands flying across the console. “Something’s interfering with our scanners! Atmospheric disturbance detected—”

Atop the throne, Ronan’s brows also furrowed as he watched the sudden, inexplicable anomaly unfold on the massive screen before him.

Danger? Ambush?

However, the thoughts crossed his mind only briefly before he dismissed them, convinced it was nothing more than a temporary atmospheric disturbance disrupting their signals. After all, the single-pilot assault units of his fleet were among the Kree Empire’s finest technological marvels. This backward planet and its technology, or even its natural phenomena, no mere storm could possibly pose a threat to them.

But then, just as his brows relaxed, they knitted together again when he noticed the blue dots on the large display showing the status of his units, suddenly flickering many at once before turning into flashing red warnings.

“Sir! Unit Alpha-Seven just went down!”

“...Unit 324 is down!”

“...Unit 291!”

“What… is this?” the Accuser muttered, leaning forward, a hint of unease creeping into his posture. Another screen showing the live feeds from the pilots had also turned completely static, leaving his mind racing over what could possibly be the cause.

“Turn on the microphones!” he ordered. If they couldn’t see what was happening, at least they could hear it.

“Yes, Commander!”

The soldier complied, and the instant the microphones came online, the deck erupted with terrified screams and frantic sounds of chaos.

“Boom!”

“Boom!”

“Aaaaaargh!”

“Monster! Monster!”

“Boom!”

“Aaaaaargh!”

Explosions and frantic screams merged with relentless roars of thunder, reverberated through every corner of the chamber. Whatever was happening on the other side, whatever they were experiencing, it was clearly more than just some “abnormal weather.” Every soldier, including Ronan, flinched, their imagination running as the sounds crashed over them, their nerves shaken by the sheer magnitude of the chaotic sounds.

“We have contact!”

Suddenly, a soldier monitoring the transmission shouted, clutching his earpiece with one hand. His voice cracked with urgency as static and faint voices came through from the other end, and he tried to make out what was happening.

“Delta 43? Delta 43… what’s happening? What’s—”

But before he could finish, Ronan suddenly appeared behind him out of nowhere and snatched the communicator right out of his hand.

“Soldier, this is your commander speaking!” Ronan didn’t mince words and demanded into the communicator. “Explain your situation immediately!”

Meanwhile, on the other side, the soldier, the pilot operating the aircraft at this time, was completely frozen, his eyes wide, unable to even register his ruthless commander’s authoritative commands.

Reflected in his pupils were two colossal birds, each as massive as his aircraft. Their feathers glimmered with a pearly white sheen that caught every flicker of light, wings spanning wide with golden iridescence along the edges. Lightning danced across their bodies, crackling like raw storm energy, and their eyes burned with fierce intelligence. On each back perched a humanoid figure, gripping a weapon that looked like a stick or a staff, slamming it down as if delivering final judgment on him.

Aaaaarrr!

In the end, all Ronan heard was a frantic scream of pure terror before the communicator went dead, swallowed by static.

Click! The communicator in his hand was crushed into minced metal, his chest heaving—not with fear, but with raw anger. Anger at the unknown, at the chaos unfolding around him. Alarms blared relentlessly as one unit after another turned red, lost or destroyed beyond reach.

At this point, not even his arrogance could argue that something had happened to his elite unit—his entire elite unit—and whatever it, or they, were, they had done it terrifyingly fast.

His eyes narrowed dangerously, disbelief flickering within them as he leaned back on his obsidian throne. Could it be the Asgardians? Was my arrival leaked in advance?

He thought for a moment, then shook his head, dismissing the idea. Impossible. It hasn’t been long, and only that fool Yon-Rogg knew of my arrival. Besides, it didn’t look like an Asgardian ambush. Those barbarians—if it is them—they would have attacked openly and made sure everyone knew it was their doing.

He needed answers, fast, and his face twisted from confusion to fury. “SEND MORE UNITS! FIND OUT WHAT’S HAPPENING INSIDE THAT THUNDERSTORM!” he bellowed, slamming the handle of his hammer against the floor, the impact echoing like thunder through the chamber.

But all he received in return was silence, until one of his lieutenants finally gathered the courage to speak. “Sir… by your orders, all of our single-pilot attack units had already been deployed.”

Ronan let out a frustrated growl, his knuckles whitening around his hammer, but no words came out. Yes, it was he who had arrogantly ordered every fighter unit deployed at once—so what could he even say?

“Commander!”

While wondering what to do next, his head suddenly snapped toward the call of one of his lieutenants again.

“…Reporting,” the soldier stammered, sounding shocked. “I… I see something. Something… individuals over the thundercloud below us.”

“Transfer the feed to the main!” Ronan did not bother to rise from his chair this time.

“Yes, sir.”

Moments later, his eyes narrowed, though at least one of his worries was eased. On the large screen, he saw five individuals standing mid-air without the aid of armor or thruster technology, ruling out the possibility of them being Asgardians. Those proud barbarians’ and their armor could be spotted from a star away, and he was certain these were not them.

But then it begs the question: who were they? Earthlings? He had never heard of Earthlings possessing abilities like that. And just as the thought crossed his mind, he stood abruptly from his chair, his eyes locking on the unmistakable final figure—one he recognized—who had emerged from within the thundercloud and stopped near the others.

“Vers!” The name escaped his mouth like venom, dripping with raw fury.

It was the traitor. The woman, no, the dog, who had chosen to conspire with his empire’s mortal enemies, and had now, allied with some unknown races, directly causing the destruction of his entire fleet’s single-unit arsenal today.

The thought contorted his face with raw fury, and he tightened his grip on the hammer, craving to crush the dog's skull right then and there.

“LAUNCH THE INTERPLANETARY BALLISTICS! I WANT THE WOMAN’S BONES TURNED TO DUST!” he roared, no longer even caring about the single most important objective that had brought him to this planet, the tesseract. He knew she was the fastest way to find it, but he no longer cared.

He would settle the score with her and her allies first, then hunt down the tesseract another way. Regardless, the artifact would be on this planet, that much he knew for sure.

“How many, sir?” his lieutenant asked.

“All—” he began, then checked himself as cold reason edged back in. He could not afford blind slaughter here. His fleet of fifty Imperial cruisers each carried three ballistic warheads, one hundred and fifty in total, each with the power to strip mountains to bedrock, and unleashing them all could very well render the planet extinct. No matter how furious or desperate he was, he wasn't willing to draw the complete wrath of the Asgardian All Father.

“Including the traitor, there are five more, right?” he asked after a moment of thought.

“Yes, sir.”

“Then deploy five. Assign one guided warhead to each target, activate seeker vectors, lock on, and commit them to the hunt!”

---

Back with Maverick and the others.

“Go!” Seeing the hatches yaw open and thrusters flare, Maverick thought fast and barked the order, eyes cutting to his teacher and the rest. “We cannot let a single one of those missiles get through. Blast them at long range!”

For now he could only see five warheads launching, but he knew that was a sliver of the arsenal those fifty titanic cruisers held.

To scare this blue-skinned son of a bitch off for good, there was only one way. And with that thought, he turned to Danvers and said, “You ride with me. We bury their command ships and end this.”

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 262 - War (III)

Boom! Booom! Thunder! Thunder!

Lightning flashed. Fire and explosions, accompanied by ear-shattering thunder, reverberated through the darkness.

Screech!

In the chaos, a high-pitched cry suddenly tore through the storm as a magnificent bird of fire and majesty burst from the clouds, streaking across the sky with blazing speed, every powerful beat of its vast wings hurling flames and fierce winds that ripped through the storm, painting the heavens with fiery trails.

Screech! Screech!

There was only one creature known to possess such fearsome power and grace, a phoenix. It blazed through the storm, twisted in the air like a living flame, then plunged downward as its golden talons ripped deep into the metallic beast that dared cross its path.

Roar!

With a powerful beat of its wings, it unleashed a torrent of flames from its beak, its high-pitched roar shredding the air as its prey was engulfed in searing fire.

BOOM!

The explosion rippled through the clouds, waves of heat and force spreading in every direction. Yet the phoenix soared through it as though through a mere breeze. Its form was immense, wings spanning more than a dozen meters, its body nearly as large as the machine it had just destroyed.

And atop the phoenix’s head stood a man in flowing gray robes, his black-and-silver hair whipping in the storm’s wind and rain.

Crackle!

Lightning flashed across Albus Dumbledore’s face, revealing a hard, cold expression. One enemy fell, but it was far from the end, and he raised his wand again, eyes locked on the countless machines swarming above.

Then, Boom! With a sharp flick, the Elder Wand unleashed a radiant, thick bolt of lightning that split into chains, striking three more enemies in his path and tearing through them, blasting them apart in quick succession.

All around, hundreds of alien fighter jets darted through the clouds like a swarm of metal insects, their engines shrieking and weapons firing wildly.

Thunder rolled endlessly as blinding flashes of light and explosions tore through the clouds.

Woosh! Wooosh!

Booom! Boom!

Dumbledore was not the only one raining havoc with spells. Olympe, Edward, and Takamura were likewise tearing through the storm like Ares the god of war, unleashing relentless barrage of spells at the swarm of machines destroying everything in their wake.

And more, all the witches and wizards that had followed were streaking through the thunder and lightning on their brooms, their robes whipping wildly in the wind as bolts of colorful spells streaked in every direction with deadly precision.

Meanwhile, at the center of the thundercloud, McGonagall spun her broom sharply and conjured a massive storm of blades, literally transfiguring the clouds into a whirlwind that annihilated a spaceship venturing too close.

Accompanying her were her colleague Flitwick, the two Unspeakables, and their true purpose was to guard someone else, shielding them from the aftermath of explosions and the relentless bursts of energy and magic erupting everywhere.

Ororo, aka the Storm. In fact, the reason the storm hadn’t dissipated after the five archmages reclaimed their magic was her. The storm that had formed because of their overwhelming magic was the perfect catalyst for her mutant powers, basically setting the stage for her, and all she had to do now was keep the storm breathing.

Like a goddess, eyes glowing and bolts of white electricity coursing over her body, she commanded the cast apocalyptic thundercloud as if it were her own limbs, raining lightning down on countless aircraft, near and far, at her will. In fact, aside from Danvers and the five archmages, she was causing the most destruction, making the entire battlefield her weapon of choosing.

And speaking of Danvers—Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!—a brilliant streak of orange darted through the lightning as she blazed faster than anyone else, a living comet radiating raw destruction. She tore through enemy aircraft one after another, and any that stood in her way exploded on the spot as if they were mere balloons.

The shockwave from her flight shredded vapor trails in her wake. One after another, they fell—five, ten, twenty in mere seconds—until her path alone looked like a burning streak carved through the storm.

Time passed slowly.

The wizards twisted and dove between energy blasts, their spells illuminating the clouds, while the cries of magical creatures rang out, rising above the roar of destruction and defying the metallic swarm filling the heavens. The sky itself was chaos—a storm within a storm, where fire, magic, and plasma clashed in brilliant flashes.

And gradually, the seemingly endless enemy spaceships no longer felt endless. The swarm of six hundred, once coordinated, became like pigs to the slaughter after being struck by the dominant spirit of the five archmages, a fraction of them even going down by their own hands—crashing into one another or falling victim to reckless firing.

In fact, it hadn’t even been ten minutes, and the enemy had already lost half of their units, while the offensive from Earth, despite having ten times fewer numbers, hadn’t lost a single ally.

Of course, all of this was only possible because of the initial momentum that completely shattered Ronan’s forces’ coordination. And with that, even if all 600 aircraft still had their firepower, when the controllers were taken down, it didn’t count for anything.

Otherwise, facing a coordinated force of hundreds of spaceships armed with powerful energy blasters, even though the individual forces from Earth were powerful, they would have no way to attack and defend at the same time.

Of course, that doesn’t include the five archmages and Danvers, for whom numbers mattered little—only how much time they would need and whether the enemy would continue to fight to the last ship.

---

"This old man and his pet bird really hides deep. Not even during the Second World War was there any record of this… uh, can’t call it a chicken anymore… being this fierce and able to change size."

Seeing that the number of Ronan’s assault units had fallen by more than half, Maverick took a moment to take in the chaos within the storm—from the team of greatmages going all out, to Ororo commanding the elements, to Olympe and Takamura harvesting spaceships like livestock, to Isabella and her group fearlessly recording and streaming everything under the cover of Ali, Lupin, Black, Sarah, and Simon, and finally, to Dumbledore and Fawkes raining fire.

It was only a matter of time before that number was reduced to zero, but surely, Ronan wouldn’t just sit idle and watch his forces be massacred.

And with that thought, he sent a mental communication to the five archmages and Danvers, then raised his head, climbing higher until he passed the stormy clouds.

Above, he saw the fifty titanic Imperial cruisers had still not made a move—or perhaps Ronan was simply too shocked to issue an order.

After all, recalling Ronan’s take on Earth from what he saw in Yon-Rogg’s memories, Ronan hadn’t taken Earth’s defensive capabilities seriously at all, thinking it relied only on technology—and that technology was primitive at best. With Asgard out of the equation, he had no idea that Earth would have such a force of extraordinary powers defending it.

Woosh!

The first to arrive was the old man from Japan. With a twist in space, he apparated beside Maverick, eyes narrowing as he gave him a scrutinizing look.

“What’s the matter, boy?” He fixed Maverick with a piercing look, questioning why he had been summoned while the enemy below was still very much active.

“Wait for the others…” Maverick said flatly, showing no outward reaction, then raised his head again to the fleet of behemoths blocking the sun.

Takamura followed suit, tilting his head as well. “Have those machines started moving again?”

“Not yet… but—”

And just then, with a woosh, woosh, whoosh! three more ripples of warped space echoed as Dumbledore, Edward, and Maxime announced their arrival as well, apparating nearby simultaneously.

At the same time, a streak of fiery orange also tore through the storm below like a blazing meteor as Carol Danvers burst forth, energy flaring around her in radiant waves. She halted midair, eyes glowing with power as she hovered beside them, the air around her still trembling from her arrival.

“Are we finally gonna hit the accuser head-on, wizard?” Danvers said, crossing her arms over her chest, a faint smirk playing on her lips. Clearly, taking on an entire swarm of fighter pods hadn’t broken a sweat, and she was eager for a real challenge.

The four archmages also raised an eyebrow at her nonchalance. Honestly, they were still having a hard time digesting how, in Merlin’s name, a muggle experiment—accidental or otherwise—could result in such a ridiculously powerful force as her.

Rumble… rumble… thunder… thunder… boom… boom.

Lightning flashed and explosions erupted continuously from below, casting flickering light across their faces. Maverick raised his head to the darkness above, narrowing his eyes as he made up his mind about their next course of action.

“There are six of us. Separate, go all in and try to cause as much destruction to as many of those behemoths as possible in the shortest time before they can react—”

“I think, little raven, we might have our hands full before that…” Maxime’s voice cut in. It was no question this hybrid woman had the widest magical sense of anyone present, and she had clearly detected movement.

Hearing her, all of them surged higher, and soon they saw what she was implying. The titanic warships’ hatches were opening, and what emerged left no room for doubt. Their expressions hardened instantly.

They had all seen the ultimate destruction each of those warheads could cause when Maverick played Yon-Rogg’s memories for them.

It might not be nuclear—the Kree called it something else—but it was just as powerful, only without the radiation, refined by their advanced mastery of nuclear technology.

And against that much firepower, even an archmage’s overwhelming magic-fueled defenses couldn’t hold for long—unless they chose to avoid it entirely by jumping through space.

“Go. Don’t let a single warhead get through. Blast them at long range.” Maverick thought quickly and issued the instructions, looking at his teacher and the others.

Then, glancing at Danvers, he added, “You and I will take out their ships!”

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 261 - War (II)

London.

“How is it that none of our governments or newspapers are reporting this?”

Inside the Grangers’ residence, Mrs. Granger asked her daughter in disbelief as they sat together on the sofa in their living room, watching the magical vision broadcasting live the events unfolding in a remote desert in China.

“Your mom’s right, honey,” Mr. Granger also agreed with his wife, lightly shrugging his shoulders. “I mean, it all looks more like an action movie to us than actual live news…”

Saying as much, the couple looked to their daughter, silently expecting her explanation. Despite being grown-ups, they both knew their daughter—a literal witch—was the authority on all things extraordinary in the house.

“As much as I want this to be some kind of fiction, it can’t possibly be made up,” Hermione said after a moment, her brow furrowed in thought. “We saw muggle world leaders also gathered in some conference yesterday, discussing countermeasures…”

Isabella’s broadcast had indeed been running continuously since the conference began yesterday, and by now practically the entire magical world—from wizarding homes and inns to public stations and magical governments alike—was focused on the matter.

“Besides,” Hermione continued, her eyes fixed on the screen with worry clear in her expression. “it’s not that none of our governments are reporting it—they’re clearly trying to hide it. Just think about it: nearly every major news outlet is saying that the armies and police forces of every country are on high alert. That can’t possibly be a coincidence.”

At her words, the couple’s eyes darted from the magical vision showing Isabella’s broadcast to the television screen, where BBC Breaking News was airing a live report.

“…Although the military insists this is only a practice drill, questions remain as to why nearly every major country is reporting simultaneous troop movements. Our correspondents in the United States confirm similar exercises there, with the army, navy, and even local police all on high alert.

BBC has attempted multiple times to contact the Royal Family, but so far, no official statement has been released by the British Government…”

Across London, and even the entire globe, similar conversations were unfolding in muggle households with witches or wizards among their children. Some met the news with skepticism, but most did not deny the reality unfolding before them, no matter how unbelievable or sudden it seemed.

Whereas the muggle world remained secretive, the magical communities offered full transparency—even when local newspapers sought confirmation directly from magical governments, their reports were verified without question.

The world was indeed facing an unprecedented threat from beyond—extraterrestrial life was real, and perhaps for the first time in modern history, the combined forces of the planet’s mightiest—whether individuals or entire armies— were coming together to confront a danger the likes of which had never been seen before.

---

“...Remember, as soon as their formation collapses, hit them with everything you’ve got...”

Back where the chaos was about to break loose, Edward Garling issued the final instructions to those around him—mages, mutants, and muggles alike—while behind him, the swarm of assault units drew closer like a gathering storm.

It was Olympe Maxime’s idea, and truth be told, it wasn’t a bad one—certainly more practical than the straightforward head-on assault first on the table. Because even for archmages, taking down six hundred single-pilot ships would take time—and factoring in their firepower and maneuverability, even more so.

The idea was, basically, to kill their coordination and turn the swarm into headless flies, so that even if they had the numbers, the powerhouses from Earth could overwhelm them easily without having to worry about their cohesion.

“It’s best to keep a certain distance from us,” Dumbledore said after Edward, his gaze briefly sweeping the swarm beyond. Casting a sideways glance at Ororo, he added, “Young lady, advise your friends to fall back as well. What’s about to happen… we can control only so much, and I cannot guarantee it won’t affect anyone too close.”

Maverick nodded in agreement and gave the same advice. “Ask Mr. Hank to move the X-Jet back at least a kilometer.”

Meanwhile, inside the X-Jet, Hank let out a long breath he didn’t even realize he was holding as soon as he heard Maverick’s order. In fact, his hands had already pulled the controls, and the Blackbird was already banking sharply, turning back.

Only after seeing it up close did they fully grasp the scale of what they were up against. The attacks hadn’t even begun, yet the sight alone was enough to break a calm resolve—cold sweat had already formed on all three of their foreheads aboard the X-Jet.

Fifty titanic Kree imperial cruisers loomed above, blotting out the sun like a storm, and beyond them, six hundred individual attack pods, each roughly the size of their own jet. How—or even if—they could contribute against such a force, they had no idea.

Fortunately, they had a literal AoE on their side, and she was with the wizards outside. At least her presence would serve as the mutants’ contribution, they all thought.

"What about me then?” Ororo’s brow twitched as she turned back to Maverick, watching the Blackbird pull away the instant he mentioned they should fall back.

"Back up with the rest..."

While saying, Maverick’s gaze then swept over the witches and wizards on their brooms and settled on McGonagall. Better to keep her where someone could watch over her, he thought. Her ability to generate literal storms that pack a lot of power was certainly impressive, but her agility in the air was, unfortunately, not.

"Go with Professor McGonagall," he added, motioning to the stern-looking woman leading the force of great magi. "After we’re done here, be ready to go all out with the rest of them."

There was no time for debate, as the storm overhead was nearly upon them. Ororo moved swiftly to McGonagall and, just as quickly—though with a hint of hesitation—sat behind her without a word. Fortunately, McGonagall was not a difficult woman either; she simply nodded with a brief smile and even, magically secured Ororo in place after she settled.

And with that, everyone fell back—either by apparition or descending rapidly—leaving only the five of them at the front.

The swarm of alien aircraft, each roughly the size of a fighter jet, hurtling together in a coordinated rush of six hundred, was a sight only a few could stomach. They could now even hear the buzz of their engines slicing through the wind, rattling eardrums, a deafening hum like a swarm of enraged bees—only these weren’t insects. They were harbingers of destruction.

“Wait for it…” Edward muttered, narrowing his eyes at the approaching storm. Now, only five of them remained in the immediate front.

They waited.

At the center stood Dumbledore, flanked by Edward and Maxime on either side. Maverick and Takamura took their positions next, all of them poised and motionless, the tension almost visible. From their vantage, it looked as if a thundercloud had formed directly above their heads, pregnant with impending chaos.

“Just a bit more—”

“Now!”

All five of them widened their eyes, their pupils contracting, and then—BOOOM! Like a torrent unleashed, they surged their magic forward in perfect unison.

It is said that when two masters of dominant spirit collide their magic, even the heavens can split. Now, from a single point, five archmages had fused their arrogance into one unstoppable force, unleashing it outward. The broken clouds churned from white to deep darkness in an instant, roiling as if stirred by an invisible, godlike hand.

The heavens did not simply split—they quaked, trembling under a weight that felt like a descending apocalypse. Lightning forked across the sky, illuminating the jagged cloud edges, while thunder roared like the roar of a celestial beast.

The hundreds of Kree air units caught in the wake shuddered violently, engines straining against the invisible pressure. Normally, dominant spirit cannot affect physical matter, but this force was so overwhelming it breached every boundary.

However, the machines were not the true target of the five kings—it was their pilots. To them, it was as if their heads had been plunged ten thousand meters beneath the ocean, their capacity to think reduced to nothing.

Some—those at the very forefront—succumbed instantly, collapsing into unconsciousness as the overwhelming will of the archmages washed over them.

Booom! Boom! Booom! Boom! Booom! Boom! Booom! Boom!

It didn’t take long. One moment, all six hundred aircraft were descending like a calamity, a coordinated calamity, and the next, their formation collapsed on itself. They had been flying too close, shoulder to shoulder in the skies, and when their minds got scrambled, control went out the window.

The fall turned into chaos. Metal wings clipped, tails smashed, engines screamed as they collided, one after another. Like a deadly chain reaction spreading left and right, up and down, explosions rippled across the clouds. Fire rolled over fire, thunder echoing through the heavens.

Booom! Boom! Booom! Boom!
Thunder! Crackle! Thunder! Thunder!

“That’s enough!” Dumbledore said, pulling back his magic, and the rest followed his lead.

The old man’s eyes narrowed. The scene before him looked almost beautiful, like fireworks on new year’s night, except this was pure destruction. He tightened his grip on the Elder Wand. He felt no pity for them. None at all. They weren’t human beings to begin with, and they had come here to destroy their world. The man everyone believed to be soft, sometimes too soft, felt nothing of that sort today.

He turned back, and with a flick of his wand, his voice carried across the battlefield to every witch, wizard, muggle and mutant in their ranks.

Booom! Boom! Booom! Boom!
Crackle! Thunder! Crackle!

Amid the roars of explosions, fire, thunder, and lightning, his voice cut through like a blade of ice, cold yet commanding enough that they felt it in their bones.

“Charge!”

Maxime’s plan had worked perfectly, even better than they had thought it would. The swarm of six hundred had indeed become a horde of headless insects, and now, it was time to harvest.

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 260 - War (I)

The fifth of January, 1994. In the annals of history, it would shine as the day the world’s eyes first opened to the infinite expanse beyond its fragile blue skies, and to the threats lurking among the stars.

Until then, humanity had lived in quiet arrogance, blind to the immensity of the universe, some even believing they were at the center of it. They had no idea.

But it was also on that day that the vaster universe was delivered a profound lesson: ignorance does not always make one any less threatening. Sometimes, beneath all that docility, what appears to be a harmless sheep could very well be a sleeping dragon.

---

A massive armada of steel behemoths drifted into low orbit, moving like a silent storm across the void above Earth. Fifty in total, each larger than the biggest commercial airliner ever built, and together they almost resembled a thunderous tempest moving across the sky.

This was the destroyer fleet of the Kree Empire’s most formidable general, Ronan the Accuser. At this time, aboard the war machine at the forefront, the general himself stood on the command deck, watching as the fleet under his command passed the exosphere of planet Earth.

He was a figure of undeniable presence, towering at 7'5" and encased in Kree exoskeletal armor—a flawless fusion of ancient tradition and cutting-edge technology. In his grasp, he wielded his signature weapon: a hybrid of staff and hammer, capable of manipulating energy, matter, and gravity with devastating precision.

His calculating eyes swept across the viewports, tracking the descent of his armada as it pierced the first blanket of clouds. This primitive world would serve as a lesson to any who dared defy Kree authority, he thought coldly, arrogance curling in his posture.

But first, he needed to locate his target: Commander Yon-Rogg. Not that he harbored any compassion or intended to save him, but the Tesseract, the object of this expedition, was with the fool the last he had known.

But for some reason, contact with Yon-Rogg and his entire platoon had been lost some time ago, reduced to a single, desperate distress signal—which they were now tracking.

As for the possibility that it could be a trap to lure him, he hadn’t even considered it. After all, who in their right mind would bait an entire Kree Accuser fleet—unless those on the other end were courting their own destruction?

“General, we have movement.”

Ronan’s cold blue pupils flicked toward the voice, and saw the console in front of his subordinate flared red, alarms stuttering to life.

“Scanners are detecting multiple trajectories approaching the fleet from below, but…” The soldier hesitated, struggling to put into words what he was seeing.

“Continue, soldier,” Ronan ordered, his voice cold and clipped.

“…Apologies, sir. The system can’t determine whether they’re mechanical or otherwise. Only one is showing a heat signature. The rest are… unknown.”

“Unknown?” His eyes narrowed.

Tuk, tuk, tuk.

His heavy metal boots rang against the deck as he strode forward and leaned over the console to study the feed. Indeed, every ping on the rader was marked unrecognizable—except for one.

“Bring up the video feed!”

“Transferring to the main screen, sir.” The subordinate’s fingers danced across the holo, and soon the main display bloomed with white cloud banks and an endless sea of orange below it.

“Zoom in on the brightest one,” Ronan pointed at the tiny blazing speck hurtling toward them.

“Is that…” The soldier murmured, eyes glued to the display as the fiery flare resolved into a shape tearing through the atmosphere. It wasn’t a weapon, as he had expected—it was... a woman.

“Vers.” A name slipped from Ronan’s tongue like a venomous hiss, while his hand tightened subconsciously on the hammer. The thing he hated most was traitors, and the woman on the screen was the greatest of them all, having cost his empire the Tesseract—twice.

His eyes went hard. “It seems the fool Yon-Rogg lost his worthless life… and his soldiers… to the dog he once fed. Pathetic!”

“So then, sir… the distress signal was—?” the soldier asked hesitantly, and it goes without saying what he was trying to imply.

It turned out this was indeed an ambush, but who was Ronan? The arrogance buried deep in his bones would never allow him admit to having been played, so he cut the soldier off with a dry snort and turned back toward his station.

Does she honestly believe these primitive apes and their ragged tech can ambush my armada? he thought coldly, even half tempted to rain his entire arsenal down on the planet’s ignorant masses.

But while pride ruled him, he was no fool either. He knew exactly whose territory he was trespassing, a dominion under a true god-king. Their hands might be full elsewhere, giving him the confidence to strike boldly, yet that did not mean Asgard would just sit idly by if he rained hell on one of their domains. So as long as he stayed clear of the All-Father’s red line, he was certain today’s operation would succeed, and more importantly, he would claim his ultimate prize.

“Unleash the swarm,” he ordered, and the soldiers obeyed with machine precision, relaying his command. At least, he thought, he could show these fools the error of their thinking for having the audacity to ambush him.

“All of them, sir?”

“Yes. All. Target every insect trailing Vers. Destroy them all, but… keep the woman alive.”

“Understood!” the deck answered in unison, taut with a mix of fear and unwavering respect. Though they all thought the force they were ordered to unleash was far beyond excessive, the general’s command was absolute.

The air ahead split in a single, disciplined moment. Fifty Kree Imperial cruisers hung like dark teeth in the sky, their hulls gleaming with cold intent. In the command towers, officers watched the feed with blank focus, and when the order came, no one hesitated.

“Launch pattern Alpha,” the commanders called, and one by one the cruisers flexed. Vents opened, launch bays yawned like hungry mouths, and from each hull a dozen mini attack pods detached. Together, six hundred deadly units spilled into the clouds, thrusters roaring as they gradually converged into a single hive, descending from the heavens like judgment incarnate.

They had the numbers. Down below, their scanners revealed the embarrassing ratio: one against ten, and each of those ten was armed with energy blasters capable of obliterating any organism foolish enough to stand in their way.

However, “Keep the woman alive” was the command, and orders were orders, so they had to be careful. Instead of total annihilation, it was far more difficult to carry out an extermination when they had to avoid stepping on a single ant.

---

Wooosh! Boom!

Carol Danvers surged through the clouds, a streak of blazing light tearing across the sky. She raced far ahead, breaking supersonic while the rest struggled to keep pace—most riding brooms, a black fighter jet cutting through the air behind them, and a handful farther below inside invisible constructs that flickered in and out of view.

She was hellbent on landing the first strike, her eyes locked on the thunderous formation of Ronan’s fleet overhead—fifty titanic Imperial cruisers blotting out the sun as they descended. Had this happened before, she might have frozen in fear; after all, it was a hopeless, dreadful sight for any sane person to behold.

As the distance closed, her eyes narrowed suddenly at a change in the obsidian-like cloud above, countless small movements flickering within it. From her vantage point, it looked like a swarm of bees, but having once been a soldier of the Kree, she knew exactly what those were, and she came to an abrupt stop. Each tiny dot was a single unit of raw firepower, which—although it posed little threat to her or the five super magicians at her side—would be overwhelming to anyone else.

The rumors, it seemed, about Ronan the Accuser were indeed true, she thought: he was not the kind of person who toyed with his prey.

Woosh!

Suddenly, a figure materialized from the void beside her, and then—Woosh! Woosh! Woosh! Woosh!—more followed in a relentless rhythm, each movement tearing through space in a continuous pulse.

“Are those…?” Maverick asked, eyes narrowing as he glided next to her. The rest of the archmagi and greatmagi gathered as well, all eyes fixed skyward on the dreadful sight before them.

“Assault units—single-pilot attack pods. As I explained yesterday, each cruiser carries over a dozen of them.”

“It’s like a swarm,” Alester Moody remarked, perched atop his broom. “How many of them are there?”

“Too many,” commented Maverick’s teacher, with a solemn expression. Even for an archmage, it was a menacing sight.

“Hypothetically, if we were to get hit by a… what did you call it… an energy blast from one of those things, do you think our defensive spells could stop it?” one of the great magi asked, his eyes trembling slightly. The thundercloud-like fleet above them was intimidating enough, but now, coupled with a swarm of countless death machines, the sight had become even more terrifying.

“A great magi’s magic-fueled protega could… should be able to take a few energy blasts, even successively,” Maverick, having tested the firepower of the Kree weapons against his shields, made a fair estimate. “But not if you were attacked from all sides.”

“I have a suggestion, Little Raven,” Maxime interjected. Though she still used that accursed nickname, her expression was just as solemn as the rest.

---

Back inside Maria’s house, Talos, Morex and Maria watched the unfolding situation on the screen, their expressions just as grave as those of the people far away in the field.

“My god…” a voice from the feed interrupted their thoughts, but their eyes never left the screen showing the action. “Can a group of just over fifty really handle all that?”

Meanwhile, the heads of different states continued communicating over the conference link, sometimes suggesting, sometimes commenting, as they watched the situation unfold.

“President Xi… your pilots are the closest. How far are they from the mission point?”

“Half an hour, at least,” the man in question replied in fluent English, also watching the offensive team from Earth, which had paused its ascent and was seemingly discussing a plan to intercept the hopelessly outnumbered situation before them.

“Trust our people, my dear colleagues,” Jameson Greengrass, the Minister of Magic of England, said with confidence. “Their numbers may be small, but they are not people numbers alone can define when it comes to who triumphs in the end.”

“The minister is correct.”

Moments later, “It seems they have devised a plan,” Maria remarked softly, watching some change in the Earth team’s offensive formation. “Did you hear what they said, Morex?”

Morex was the only one with a communication link to the team in the field, where Maverick held the other end.

“I hear them, but I have no idea what they’re talking about. Something about luring them all close and coercing their wills before launching the offensive…” Morex repeated what he had just heard, turning to the two to see if they had any idea what it meant, but they were just as clueless as he was.

“Some are falling behind, it appears. Are the five of them alone planning to take on all those countless units?” More comments came from the feed, and everyone watched the scene unfold.

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 259 - Earth’s United Vanguard (IX)

Once everyone understood the gravity of what was coming, the talk then moved toward about countermeasures. It was a simple question, though the answer was anything but: how would Earth defend itself?

And as the unofficial chair of this operation, Maverick was the first to speak and outlined the strategy he had in mind to intercept the enemy. Actually, he was the only one with a plan practical enough that could be executed within the narrow window they had left.

Obviously, it goes without saying that the people already gathered there were part of that very plan, and many, after fully realizing it, even acknowledged him for his quick thinking and decisive action. Not a single one, whether physically present in the room or otherwise, was certain they could have assembled so many powerhouses in such a short time the way Maverick had.

However, with so many voices in one place, arguments were bound to arise. Not per se about the main offensive — that was unanimously agreed upon very quickly — but about providing additional support. Some generals, lurking behind their heads of state, even tossed out the idea of nuking the enemy from the skies, only to be shut down on the spot by Talos, who pointed out it would never get past the Kree battleships’ point-defense turrets.

Not to mention the technological gap: the enemy fleet would detect it from a planet away, potentially making things worse. In the worst-case scenario, they might even decide to unleash a full salvo of ballistics all at once.

But still, the generals from the superpower countries were not content to simply stand idly by. At least they wanted their birds in the air when the operation began, so after some back-and-forth, it was agreed they could stay deployed, but at a reasonable distance.

Beyond that, the main topic later discussed among the gathered parties was additional countermeasures — how to ensure that if the main offensive line did in fact fail or was breached, steps could be put in place to minimize or prevent any attack from causing casualties.

Already, the suggestion Maverick had made earlier — to have the air forces on alert and the Great Magi work together — was the best strategy. So it was just a matter of detailing it and establishing a command structure.

And so, as the stars drifted across the night sky, and in other parts of the world, as the sun traced its destined path overhead, time pressed forward, despite the hum of lingering tension, quiet and unnoticed.

Some took breaks, while others stayed until sunset or sunrise, depending on where they were, yet the conference link never went silent, alive with the constant hum of discussion as strategies were refined, argued over, and perfected down to the very last detail.

Then, precisely at ten o’clock the next day in the time zone where the main force was gathered, the modified living room-turned-conference room inside Maria’s house suddenly flared into alarm, a sharp warning that cut through the quiet hum of activity and made everyone snap to attention.

At this time, only about half the people who had been there yesterday were present in the room. All the archmages were absent, but most Greatmagi remained, along with a few new faces who had arrived later and were direct subordinates to the archmages: Maxime, Takamura, and Edward.

Talos and Morex never left, even eating their meals there while being questioned non-stop by SHIELD and the military around the world for every nit and crumb of detail about the Kree Empire. Fury and Coulson endured the same fate, serving as SHIELD’s representatives to bridge the operation’s developments to the non-magical world, while the rest of the participants came and went in the meantime.

However, just as the alarm blared, the room reverberated with thumping echoes, as if space itself were fracturing. Witches and wizards who had stepped outside for a break—or for any other reason—apparated back in one after another, while the pounding of hurried footsteps from outside signaled the rest rushing in, and the air inside the room instantly crackled with urgency.

"Talk to me, Morex…" Maverick said, sliding into the headmost seat as the long table filled quickly with everyone taking their places.

Morex didn’t answer immediately. His fingers danced over the Kree tech strapped to his hand, twisting and adjusting with nervous precision as beads of sweat formed on his brow. After a long, deliberate pause, he finally swiped his hand through the air, and the room dimmed before a hologram flickered to life in the center of the table.

The hologram hovered, glowing faintly: a flawless sphere of Earth, and a smaller orb drifting at a distance, with dozens of red dots pulsing like urgent warning lights, while Morex finally spoke, cutting through the charged silence.

"They're here…" he said bluntly.

"How many?"

"Coordinates?"

"Are they moving?"

The three questions came almost at once from different feeds on the large screen. "Exactly fifty," Morex said, his fingers still dancing over the tech. He took a steadying breath before continuing, "Their exit jump, when my recon detected it, was somewhere between C-53 and its moon. And yes… they are moving, heading straight for the planet."

"That close? How fast are their… vessels?" Dumbledore asked from the table, looking solemnly at the glowing hologram.

"Half an hour, no more. They're moving fast, and it seems…" He paused, then turned briefly to Maverick and added, "…they've taken the bait, judging from their trajectory and factoring in C-53's rotation."

"That's good." Maverick let out a breath. Even though he was confident about the operation, he couldn't help feeling a tang of tension. He wasn't afraid for his own life, but if the operation didn't go according to plan, many innocent lives could be at risk.

And the "bait," was nothing more than a simulated distress signal, mimicking the Kree, designed to lure the enemy fleet into the atmosphere at a location of their choosing. That way, even if the offensive line was breached, the Kree fleet’s weapons or drones would need time to reach inhabited areas, giving them a window to implement additional countermeasures. The signal originated from the Taklamakan Desert in China, exceptionally far from any human settlements, making it one of the most isolated places on Earth.

"Ladies and gentlemen, you heard the science guy," Maverick said, glancing across the room and the screen. "Councillors of the International Confederation of Wizards, be prepared to move to the location on our signal." He first addressed all the Greatmagi, then the non-magical side. "Generals, have your air assets on standby for our signal. If we can ultimately lure their fifty-ship fleet into that atmospheric pocket, we will execute Plan A and launch a coordinated, full-scale offensive. The five of us, along with Ms. Danvers and the Greatmagi, will hit them with everything we have. Until then, it's Plan B for you: disperse and stay ready for anything."

"Fifteen minutes," Morex announced again. "They're accelerating..."

Maverick nodded and rose to his feet, eyes locking on the green-skinned alien. "Stay here, and keep the data flowing through coms." Then he faced the rest. "Move out!" And with that, he vanished from the spot, the mages disappearing in his wake, while the non-magical teams surged toward the exit, leaving only Morex and Maria inside.

Everyone had gathered outside. The Greatmagi gripped their brooms, ready, while the X-Jet sat waiting a short distance away. Compared to yesterday, the numbers had clearly swelled, and Maverick took a moment to review the plan one last time. Meanwhile, Isabella and her crew had their gadgets trained and streaming live, feeding every move back inside the room and across the magical world.

“The plan is simple. Don’t hold back. Unleash the most destructive magic you have. Hit hard, hard enough to make them turn tail and retreat at once, because together we are more than capable of that. But the longer we engage, the greater the chance their weapons will be deployed all at once, so we must act decisively without giving them so much as a breath.”

He paused briefly, his gaze sweeping the somber faces mirroring his. "Remember, not a single innocent life should be affected today."

“Mr. Caesar, is there a faster way for the X Jet to reach the location? It’s halfway around the world,” Hank asked, standing beside Xavier.

“Yes. Get your bird in the air and I’ll handle the rest,” Maverick said, giving no further details.

---

Taklamakan Desert. A vast sea of sand stretching endlessly under a scorching sun, the wind whipping dust into blinding waves, and the isolation made it one of the most remote places on Earth.

Suddenly, the silence of this vast wasteland was torn apart as a massive, shimmering portal flared open in the sky, its edges crackling with orange sparks, and—
BOOM! A deafening roar erupted from within, shattering the stillness over the barren desert. From the glowing vortex, a large, pitch-black aircraft shot out with a thunderous woosh, engines screaming, leaving a streak of blue light as it pierced the sky.

Maverick didn’t bother hiding his ability with sorcery. Maybe Dumbledore and the Archmages understood what they were seeing, but the rest could only assume it was some unknown, unheard-of form of magic. Of course, he caught the curiosity in their eyes—most notably Dumbledore’s, and even his teacher’s, but with time pressing and tension rising, no one made a big deal of it.

And thanks to the Sling Ring portal—well, minus the ring in his case—everyone avoided the hassle of apparating separately, and all of them, including the X-Jet carrying the X-Men, reached the target location together just as quickly.

Woosh. Woosh. Woosh.

Through the blazing portal shot the Greatmagi on their broomsticks, the X-Jet having led the way, followed by the Archmages gliding atop their luminous constructs. Finally, Maverick stepped through, and the shimmering gateway snapped shut behind him like a curtain of fire.

“Group up! Follow the plan exactly!”

There was no pause in their movement, no time to take in the wasteland or the blistering heat, and formations formed instantly. The Greatmagi scattered, pairing off in groups of two, and, following the five Archmages and the human comet blazing ahead, they surged into the clouds without hesitation.

At the same time, trailing behind, Isabella and her crew rose more deliberately, flanked by Ali, Lupin, Sirius, and Sarah. Two Greatmagi alongside Sirius and Lupin were enough, if needed, to intercept any stragglers daring to slip past the main offensive. Their mission was clear: provide cover while simultaneously setting the stage to film the interception and broadcast it to both the Muggle world leaders and the entire magical community.

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 258 - Earth’s United Vanguard (VIII)

"The Kree Empire..." Even thinking the name made his chest tighten. "They aren’t just another advanced race spread across the stars. They’re a cold, efficient, and ancient war machine—a species built for conquest, shaped over thousands of years through discipline, experimentation, and an obsession with control."

"The worlds under their rule are stripped bare and turned into factories of war, churning out soldiers, ships, and weapons capable of erasing entire planets. Every Kree is born into service, their worth measured by how much they can offer to the Empire’s endless conquests."

"Things like art, joy, or compassion don’t exist there anymore. They gave those up long ago. What remains is purpose, drilled into every fiber of their being, and that purpose is domination. And what’s coming for this planet sits right at the top of that hierarchy..."

"...Ronan the Accuser."

A heavy silence followed the room at the mention of the name, while Talos continued to speak.

"The man isn’t just a soldier. He’s a zealot encased in armor, carrying judgment like it’s sacred flame. Where the Kree Supreme Intelligence rules through calculation and logic, Ronan embodies their devotion to conquest. To him, war isn’t duty—it’s divine."

"He commands fleets that can blot out the sky, armadas forged from the Empire’s finest—warships bristling with weapons capable of turning civilizations into ash. And that’s only the strength of the forces under his command."

"The warlord himself is no ordinary being either. His physiology stands at the pinnacle of mortal potential and far beyond most baseline species. A master of combat, seasoned in warfare and strategy, he’s a weapon sharpened by countless battles. With his infamous weapon, the Cosmic-Rod, he is, for lack of a better term, a one-man army."

Although Talos had never personally faced that nightmare, he had heard enough from countless victims—entire colonies erased beneath the glow of the warmonger’s cursed weapon. While on the run, he had also witnessed firsthand the devastation left in the man’s wake.

"The Kree... they call him the Supreme Accuser, the living executor of the Empire’s will."

As the green-skinned alien spoke, laying bare everything he knew about the invasion bound for their planet, and with the memories they had all seen still fresh in their minds, even the archmages’ faces had hardened. The magnitude of what's coming had finally gripped every soul, both those watching from afar and those present in the room.

---

The X-Men, led by Charles Xavier, were the last to arrive. Among them were Ororo Munroe, better known as Storm; Raven Darkholme, the shapeshifter called Mystique; Logan, the Wolverine; Henry McCoy, the brilliant Beast; and, of course, Professor X himself.

Their numbers were small, but these were the only adults Charles could spare, and he obviously wouldn’t bring the children under his care into a war.

On top of that, the message he had received was urgent, and he hadn’t had time to reach out to anyone else, including some of his old enemies-slash-allies.

But really, Maverick only needed Ororo—the rest wouldn’t be of much use anyway.

A few hours had passed, and by this point, it wasn’t just the people physically gathered in Maria’s home who were part of the meeting. This threat—even if Maverick had wanted to keep it under tight wraps—could not ultimately be hidden from the upper echelons of the world’s powers.

It was, after all, a global catastrophe that was imminent—not simply a threat to a single city like London or New York. Anywhere, big or small, poor or rich, town, city, or country could be affected if things went wrong. So it was only logical that the whole world be involved when discussing the plan to resolve the matter.

However, it wasn’t feasible for every leader to gather at what, to them, was just a random citizen’s home. The next best option, one that could be implemented quickly, was to hold a conference where everyone could at least watch and voice their concerns.

And thanks to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s technology, combined with Maverick’s magical vision enhancements, it wasn’t a difficult task—hence, the gathering now included a live video link too.

The World Security Council, the International Confederation of Wizards, the Director and top officials of S.H.I.E.L.D., and many heads of state and magical governments were also watching, their eyes fixed on the events unfolding in Maria’s living room.

On top of that, Isabella had also brought in her crew and started streaming the meeting live to the entire magical world. Only the magical world, of course—the muggle side, their civilians had no idea.

What? Who was going to reprimand her, she, Isabella Garling, with two thick thighs behind her? Besides, what she was doing was right under the eyes of five archmages, and since it technically didn’t break the statute of secrecy—i.e., revealing magic to the general muggle public—nobody even thought to question her. Such was the thinking of the hierarchy of the magical world.

Anyway, after everyone had gathered, the first thing Maverick did was play the memories for those physically present—starting with Yon-Rogg’s communications with Ronan the Accuser.

As a high-ranking commander in the Kree Empire, Yon-Rogg had a meticulous and structured understanding of the Kree military, and especially of Ronan, the general personally leading the fleet on its way to Earth.

For magicals, memories were like CCTV for the muggles—only in 4K-plus resolution. Experiencing the Kree commander’s viewpoint in vivid detail left no doubt about the severity of the situation for those gathered.

At least for those physically present, it was crystal clear after that point that they had been summoned for a good reason—and, more importantly, that Maverick had made the right call in doing so.

As for whether they all believed it, or if Maverick had tempered the memories… that was never a question. Would a dignified archmage gather the entire world just to lie to them?

Finally, for those watching and listening via the video link, who couldn’t experience the memories firsthand, Maverick turned to Talos and asked the alien to speak from his perspective, explaining everything he knew about the Kree Empire and the forces Ronan commanded.

---

“Mr. Alien... Talos. From what I can understand, this... extraterrestrial warlord’s purpose in coming here is to eliminate your people, right?”

A politician’s instinct was immediate. A voice from the screen cut through the room as the Prime Minister of India spoke, his remark obvious, though not said outright.

“If you’re suggesting we play it safe by handing over what the enemy wants and thinking we’ll be spared, then your thinking is far too shallow. Respectfully, Mr. Prime Minister,” Maverick said, his eyes narrowing at the screen.

“I agree with the High Councilor,” said Alexander Piers, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., as Maverick paused. “Besides, this is a warmongering intergalactic warlord. I highly doubt he’d consider a peaceful resolution, even if we gave him what he wanted.”

“With all due respect, human leaders, you cannot assume Kree thinking is like human thinking, or even like that of any other civilization,” Talos said, his tone calm and measured as he faced the large screen. “Yes, you could hand me over, thinking you’d be safe, but I guarantee that would only feed the Accuser’s arrogance.”

“How would you know that?” another voice echoed from the screen. It was the Prime Minister of Japan, his tone cautious but firm, seemingly agreeing with his Indian counterpart. “You said it yourself... you’ve never met this... alien.”

“There will be no negotiations and certainly no compromise,” Maverick snapped, his hand flattening on the table. “Unless, of course, you want us to look weak in front of the enemy?”

“I agree with the High Councilor,” the President of the United States said, leaning forward in his chair, backing Maverick’s tone. “Compromise is for the weak. Our world will not be taken because we tried to appease a conqueror on first contact.”

A woman’s voice from the screen then asked, practical and clipped. “Do we have a technical way to know when and where the invaders will arrive?”

“We’re working on it, Ms. Carter,” Maverick answered, then glanced at Morex beside Talos. “Is the project finished, Morex?”

Morex shrugged, lazy confidence in his posture. “It’s been finished for a while. It’s up and running. It can detect anything within a range out to the Moon’s orbit and around Earth. I can extend the range if you want.”

“No, that’s enough,” Maverick said, then looked toward the screen that showed Peggy Carter and nodded at her.

“So what happens when your radar detects the fleet? What support can individual governments provide?” the Queen of England asked from her square on the feed. Beside her, Maverick also noticed his father sitting quietly yet confidently. As expected of his old man.

“Have your air forces ready and on standby,” Maverick said, addressing all the muggle leaders. “If a missile or one of their fighter pods slips past our outer defenses, you will be the last line.”

He paused, then let his gaze fall to the square on the screen showing the ICW assembly. “And to the International Confederation of Wizards, scatter your great-magi across the globe. If anything gets through, work with the muggle air forces to intercept and eliminate it.”

He then turned back to the people at the table. “What do you think?”

A beat of silence, then Dumbledore leaned forward, steepling his fingers. “Indeed. Scattering our ranks worldwide will greatly reduce the chance that anything slipping through can cause widespread devastation. Even if the chance is small, spreading our defenses is wise.”

“SHIELD will also mobilize all its air offensive units on standby,” Director Piers added, leaning forward slightly.

“So will the X-Men,” Xavier said calmly.

“Yes,” Hank said from beside him, “though it’s only the X-Jet. Still, it’s advanced, and capable of intercepting missiles, even ballistic ones, provided we get a heads-up in time.”

At his words, a military officer seated near the President couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow and ask, “Charles Xavier, are you saying you, a civilian, have a weaponized aircraft?”

“Gentlemen,” fortunately for Charles, Maverick had cut in swiftly, halting the rising argument. “This is neither the time nor the place for your bickering.”

The President of the United States also raised a hand and motioned to his general to stand down. He then leaned forward. “Are you sure, High Councilor,” he said, eyes narrowing, “that our air forces can’t offer offensive support instead of just waiting? What if these aliens, once their weapons come within range of our surface, decide to fire... say, targeting every country on Earth at once? How sure are you that you can intercept all of them at once?”

It was a fair point. Even with Maverick and the other archmages working together, they would still be hard pressed. Each might be powerful enough to take down Ronan on their own, but stopping a barrage of ballistic weapons launched from fifty warships at once would be nearly impossible to intercept, even if all five fought together.

However... it wasn’t just five archmages who would be the only offensive line in Maverick’s plan. There’s Danvers, Ororo, and many great magi at his side, and together, he was confident they could drive Ronan away from the planet sooner rather than later.

From what he had gleaned from Yon-Rogg’s memories, the Accuser would not stand idly by while his fleet was being destroyed. Once he truly saw and understood the full power of Earth’s offensive vanguard, there was a very high chance he wouldn’t hesitate to flee and abandon his mission.

And even if he didn’t flee, that was fine too. Because Maverick’s confidence also came from the two old farmers hiding in the wings. Surely they wouldn’t let some punk do whatever he wanted to their planet, would they?

At least, the Sorcerer Supreme had already given him her word—literally via a text—that she and her forces would intercept anything, say, a warhead slipping through their defenses. With that assurance, he could face Ronan with a confident mindset, knowing he wasn’t endangering any lives on the planet.

Therefore, that particular scenario the President of the United States had mentioned would, he was sure, never come to pass.

He considered the question the leader of Uncle Sam had proposed for a long beat, then leaned forward, letting his gaze sweep across the faces in the room and the tiles of the large screen. It was time to let everyone in on the plan, he decided.

“My plan is…”

—————————

Author’s Note:

Sigh. It’s tough trying to fill in all the holes, but I think I pulled it off pretty well. Next up: the interception, and then, boom... this arc wraps up.

I’m thinking of showing reactions from all over the magical world while it’s happening. Sounds good? I’d love to hear what you think.

On a serious note, your support really means the world to me, and I can’t thank you enough.

And again... don’t forget to drop me your feedback. I’m all ears 😁

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 257 - Earth’s United Vanguard (VII)

Inside Maria’s home.

Woosh, woosh—tuk, tuk, tuk… Woosh, woosh

In the middle of the living room stood Albus Dumbledore, wand in hand, moving it in graceful sweeps, up and down, left and right, turning on his heel like a maestro before an invisible orchestra.

The space was indeed a little cramped, just as the homeowner had said, and with a dozen or so people already gathered and more expected to arrive, everyone quickly came to the same conclusion that they needed a bit more room. After all, a proper discussion required some breathing space, right?

So, the old wizard took it upon himself to handle the matter. It was nothing worth mentioning, really. For an accomplished archmage, such things were merely small inconveniences, tiny problems waiting to be solved.

At first, when Dumbledore asked Maria for permission to “make some space,” she wasn’t quite sure what he meant. She thought he might be planning to conjure a few extra tables or maybe shift the furniture around a bit, so she just nodded absentmindedly.

“Feel free to make any changes you wish, sir…” she said, and then what happened next nearly made her jaw drop to the floor.

A few startled curses slipped out before she could stop them. Magic… what an incredible power, she thought, glancing around in awe.

Before her eyes, what had once been her simple twenty-by-twenty-foot living room began to stretch and grow. No—expand. Within seconds, it was at least three times its original size.

The humble coffee table at the center transformed into a grand, ornate table, and the sofas multiplied around it as if on cue, changing into exquisitely crafted chairs and forming a perfect circle. She counted quickly, then gulped. There had to be at least twenty.

In other words, her small, ordinary living room hadn’t just become a “bit bigger,” as the grandfatherly wizard had said. It had been transformed into something more like a full-fledged conference room, and she couldn’t help but gulp again at the sheer, breathtaking power of these otherworldly people she had come to know over the past week.

But... for real though, them chairs and that desk lookin’ real slick and mad expensive.

“That, sir… is it gonna stay like this forever?” she asked, eyes on the old wizard, who was nodding approvingly at his handiwork with a satisfied smile.

“The transfiguration would eventually revert, but the space itself, unless altered by another mage, will remain stable, sustained by the ambient magical energy,” he explained, turning to her. “Worry not, my dear. Once everything is complete, I shall revert the room back to norma—”

“Please don’t!”

“I mean… can you not, humble sir? I… uh, really like what I’m seeing, thank you very much,” she said nervously, while the rest of the magicals exchanged amused glances.

The old man couldn’t help but let out an audible laugh at her reaction, while a few others tsked under their breath, muttering “Muggles” or “No-Majs.” But to her credit, only Dumbledore, the two other archmagi, and perhaps McGonagall could transfigure such finely detailed craftsmanship. It really does look “mad expensive,” even for wizards taste.

And just as the strange silence settled, with everyone’s amused glances fixed on Maria, the sound of the front door opening made everyone turn.

---

Outside the house.

Thumph!

The sound of a dense hum echoed as Maverick and Danvers suddenly appeared out of nowhere, in front of the property’s doorstep.

"Uh… I feel like I’m gonna throw up…" Danvers grimaced the moment she appeared, bending forward slightly. Even with her body enhanced far beyond any normal human, the nauseating rush of apparition hit her full force.

"You’ll get used to it." Maverick curled a smile, hands in his pockets, and gestured toward the door with a nod of his head. "Come on, we’ve got a lot of company…"

"Company?" Danvers straightened up and got herself under control, giving him a sideways glance. "So the people you said would come are finally here?"

"Some…" Maverick said, sliding one hand out of his long coat pocket and flicking his finger. Instantly, Danvers’ battered Kree uniform repaired itself, the damage from their earlier ruckus disappearing as it looked good as new.

Sighing, Danvers shook her head. "I really envy you people…" She flicked off the nonexistent dust from her shoulders after Maverick’s spell finished. "Strange drinks to boost stamina, heal injuries, and with just a flick of your fingers, you get to clean yourself up… come on, wizard, you’re not seriously telling me I can’t learn some of that magic? Not to brag, but I pick up skills pretty fast."

"It’s not about skills. Like, I don’t have photon energy powers like you, and you don’t have magical energy. Simple." Saying that, he opened the door and stepped inside, with Danvers following.

"Hmm? Did we come into the wrong house?" Danvers gave a puzzled glance around the… well, much larger living room than she remembered her friend’s house having.

"Carol!"

"Maria… what happened here—"

Maria came running over, grabbed her hand mid-sentence, and gestured behind her with excitement. "Look, the wizards made my living room so much bigger!"

"I can see that..."

At the same time, Maverick walked up to the group, smiling, and headed straight to his father-in-law first. "Teacher…" he greeted respectfully.

"I see you’ve been busy, kid." Edward arched a brow at his student.

"More or less…" he said, curling a smile, then glanced at the two beside him. "Teacher Simon, Teacher Sarah, thank you for coming."

Glancing over at the rest, he nodded likewise. "Headmaster, Olympe…" He gave a brief greeting to the two archmages first, then paused at the elderly-looking couple. A genuine smile spread across his face as he approached them and extended his hand. "Thank you for coming on such short notice, Grandmaster and Lady Flamel," he said, bowing his head slightly in respect.

"Oh no… this is our duty, young Maverick. I must admit, I found it hard to believe at first when Olympe delivered your message… but seeing proof right here before our eyes, I’m glad you chose to seek our help," Nicolas Flamel said warmly.

"This is our home too, young man. Of course we would show up," Prenelle added just as warmly beside her husband.

Smiling, Maverick then turned to the others, greeting each of them one by one before finally motioning for Danvers to step closer.

“Everyone, this is Carol Danvers,” he said. “She’ll be a key ally in helping us stop the invasion that’s coming our way.”

Short and precise, he skipped over the details of her abilities and the reason for her importance. Those explanations could wait until the full team was assembled and it was time to break down the plan.

“And these,” Maverick continued, glancing her way, “are people from my world. My teacher, Edward Garling.” He gestured toward his mentor first, who offered a single nod, though Maverick noticed the subtle tremor in the man’s pupils—a reaction he barely masked. Understandable, really. After all, feeling that kind of dense energy from a muggle of all people would shake any mage of his level.

“…Albus Dumbledore and Olympe Maxime, along with my teacher, are as capable as I am, if not more.” Keeping the introductions brief, he finished in a single breath, continuing, “The rest… well, they’re not to be underestimated either. Some of the finest minds and strongest wands the magical world has to offer.”

Danvers had also put on her soldier mask, looking solemn and letting Maverick handle the talking. She gave short nods as he spoke, her posture firm, though her eyes couldn’t fully hide the curiosity bubbling inside her head.

With the introductions over, everyone moved into the newly “redecorated” living room, ready for Maverick to finally explain the full situation. His message via the Patronus had only scratched the surface, enough to stir urgency, but far from the whole picture. There was much to go over, and not much time left to do it.

When the group settled, Maverick took the seat at the head of the long, ornate table. No one objected, even though he was the youngest there… well, Isabella didn’t count. On one side sat the witches and wizards, and on the other were Talos, Morex, Danvers, Fury, Coulson, and Maria.

The other Skrulls, aside from Morex and Talos, stayed outside, knowing well they wouldn’t have much to contribute to this particular discussion.

Maverick leaned forward slightly, clasping his hands. “Once again, everyone, thank you for coming on such short notice. First of all, I want to make it clear that everything I said through my Patronus was completely true. Our world is facing a grave threat from a force unlike anything we’ve encountered before.”

He gestured briefly toward Talos and continued, “As you can see, extraterrestrial life is very real, and has likely existed far, far longer than our own civilization. So long, in fact, that their technology has advanced to a point where even we, as magicians, might mistake it for magic.”

A few soft scoffs rose from the wizards’ side of the table, but Maverick didn’t pause. This wasn’t the time to put anyone in their place, and truthfully, he preferred to avoid arguments until after the operation was over.

His comparison between magic and science wasn’t meant as flattery. The being he referred to—the Supreme Intelligence—was living proof of what he meant. If non-magicals could look at magic and call it miraculous, then it was only fair for magicians to see the Supreme Intelligence as a miracle born of science.

“Some time ago, Talos, Ms. Danvers, and I intercepted a high-ranking soldier from the very force that’s now preparing to invade our planet,” Maverick went on. “But before eliminating him and his entire unit, I went through his memories... and what I found there is precisely why I decided to summon all of you here without delay.”

“Then share it with us, kid. The memories,” his teacher, Edward, interjected calmly the moment Maverick paused speaking.

“I will, Teacher,” Maverick replied with a subtle nod. “But I’d prefer to wait until the rest have arrived before going over them... as well as, along with the plan I’ve been working on to counter this threat.”

He paused, scanning the room, and seeing no objections, took it as agreement and continued. “In the meantime, Talos here can fill everyone in on what we’re up against. The enemy that’s coming are his people’s most hated foes, known as the Kree… and as the saying goes, the enemy of my enemy is... my friend.”

“Therefore, at least until our operation against the approaching alien army is complete, I will consider him an ally, and I hope that after I show you the memories, you all will do the same. So feel free to raise any doubts you have about the Kree… about who they are, how powerful their forces truly are, what kind of numbers we’ll be facing, and what to expect when they arrive.”

Talos didn’t take offense at Maverick’s blunt remark about considering him only a temporary ally. After all, they had known each other for less than a week, and only a fool would place full trust in someone so quickly.

“When the operation is over,” Talos watched as Maverick turned his head to him and said, “When Ronan and his forces are repelled, and judging by how sincere you are in helping us, I promise to help you find a way to your problem.”

“I understand completely, Mr. Wizard,” he replied with a wry smile. What else could he say? He didn’t blame Maverick. If the situation were reversed, he might do the same—or maybe not. He wasn’t sure he could be as considerate as this Earthling was being toward a group of foreign species they had barely met.

But regardless, this very Earthling, with all his power, had promised to help—and that spoke volumes, touching his heart.

“Right then,” Maverick said, sweeping his gaze over everyone at the table once again. “Until the others arrive, please direct all your questions to our alien friend here.”

Immediately, all eyes turned to the green-skinned humanoid, and Talos, the man in question, felt as though a mountain of pressure had landed on his shoulders.

But this was no time to cower, he thought. His people, his wife, and his child depended on him.

So, with a resolute nod and a long exhale, he glanced around at the expectant faces, bracing himself.

The room fell silent for a moment before the first question came from a rather unexpected party: Alastor Moody, ever the scrutinizer. He was blunt, asking directly what Talos’ purpose was in coming to Earth in the first place.

Then Dumbledore, Maxime, Flamel, and Edward followed with their own questions—inquiring where he came from, details about the Kree Empire, everything he knew about them, and even more about the general life forms beyond their planet.

For over an hour, Talos talked nonstop, satisfying both the scrutiny and the curiosity of the mages, until finally the rest of the groups Maverick had personally invited began arriving.

The Scamanders appeared first, followed by the two great mages representing the British Muggle monarch.

Ali, Maverick’s right-hand man, arrived with Lupin and… Maverick was a bit surprised to see Sirius Black, whom he clearly hadn’t asked to bring.

Additionally, only Takamura, the wizard from Japan, arrived from the ranks of Archmages who was not really an acquaintance of Maverick. Although, that can't be entirely true, after all, the old thing had once made a generous donation to him from the goodness of his heart.

As for the remaining three — well, Maverick didn’t bother to find out. He hadn’t personally sent ravens to them anyway; instead, he had asked his teacher Edward, Dumbledore, and Maxime, to inform them of the gathering. Apparently, they had made contact, but whether or not they would actually arrive remained to be seen.

And finally, just as the sun began to dip below the horizon, Charles and his team of mutants arrived as the last party. Their X-Jet, aka the Blackbird, touched down with a deafening roar, its powerful engines rattling the house and sending shudders across the yard.

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 256 - Earth’s United Vanguard (VI)

“Professor McGonagall…”

Unlike the rest, as soon as Isabella saw the group of people, she instantly recognized the party. Albus Dumbledore—obviously, what witch or wizard wouldn’t?—but McGonagall was an acquaintance of hers from a few years back when she and Maverick visited Diagon Alley, and she had a very good impression of her from that short but brief encounter.

“Ms. Garling, what a lovely surprise,” McGonagall said, smiling and looking her over as Isabella walked up to her for a quick hug. “You’ve grown into quite the fine young witch, haven’t you?”

Isabella blushed a little at the sudden compliment, bobbing her head. “Thank you,” she said, then glancing to the rest, added, “Headmaster Dumbledore.” She stretched her hand for a shake to the old, renowned wizard as a polite gesture. Although her father’s face would turn blacker than the bottom of a pot whenever this old man’s name was mentioned, that did not mean she had to mirror his view. Besides, Dumbledore was her fiancé’s headmaster—in other words, his boss.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Garling,” Dumbledore said warmly. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you from Professor McGonagall—and of course, from your fiancé.”

Hehe—Isabella chuckled sheepishly, then, glancing back to her party who stood somewhat dazed for not knowing what to do—especially the rude uncle who looked like he had seen a ghost—she proceeded to introduce them.

“I’m not sure if Ricky mentioned this in his message, but this is Talos. As you can see, he’s… not exactly human. Nor a magical creature.”

Her first instinct was to point out the obvious odd one in the group, especially since everyone’s eyes were already glued to the green-skinned alien.

“An extraterrestrial being,” Dumbledore said, finishing her sentence with a hint of fascination. “How extraordinary.” He looked over Talos with open curiosity, and the alien suddenly felt like he was being locked onto by some incomprehensible power, and already, beads of cold sweat was sliding down the side of his face.

“…And this is Maria—a No-Maj... former U.S. Air Force pilot. And these two are Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Coulson and Fury,” Isabella introduced everyone with her in the same breath.

BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!

The deafening thunder cracks had not relented once while she was talking, and had been echoing continuously from above them.

“And what about the person who seems to be having a wonderful time playing with Professor Caesar?” Dumbledore asked, glancing briefly overhead while his eyes narrowed slightly, sensing fluctuations feeding back to his magical sense.

“That’s Carol Danvers,” Isabella replied. “Also a former U.S. Air Force pilot—and, well, as you can see, she’s also... rather special.”

“Special?” the man beside Dumbledore repeated with a scoff, raising an eyebrow as he watched the flashes above. “I’ve never heard of a muggle capable of matching an archmage blow for blow.” He shot a sideways glance at Dumbledore. “Albus, what can you tell—”

“Fascinating,” Dumbledore interrupted softly, his eyes bright with intrigue. “The energy coming off from her—dare I say—even I’d have to think twice before taking her lightly.”

“Is she a mutant?” McGonagall chimed in, also raising her head to the continuous booming thunder cracks.

Dumbledore did not answer; instead, he glanced at Isabella and raised a brow.

“Well, Ricky said she’s not a mutant,” Isabella said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully, “but an enhanced human. Like Captain America—Steve Rogers.”

The rough-looking man frowned, giving her a skeptical glance. “You’re telling me muggles made that? An enhanced strong enough to go head-to-head with an archmage?”

“Let us not dwell on the matter for now, Alastor,” Dumbledore said mildly. Turning back to Isabella’s group, he smiled. “Allow me to introduce my companions. Albus Dumbledore, at your service. This,” he gestured to the woman beside him, “is my colleague and dear friend, Professor Minerva McGonagall. And this gentleman here is Alastor Moody, a distinguished great magus from the British Ministry of Magic.” He then paused briefly, casting a quick glance at the other two clad in black robes, and added, “Also great magi from the Ministry of Magic, who, because of their profession, I cannot reveal their names.”

The two in question, after Dumbledore’s introduction, gave a rather friendly nod in return to everyone.

“You, boy, isn’t it time you dropped that piece of metal…” The rough-looking man, who turned out to be Alastor Moody, suddenly pointed to Fury, who was still holding his gun and pointing it at them.

At his words, Fury finally managed to break out of his daze and then lowered his weapon, while letting out an exhale he didn’t know he was holding.

“With all due respect, wizard, I’m no boy,” he said flatly. “I’m an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., reporting directly to the Director.”

Moody let out a scoff, but Dumbledore raised his hand to signal that enough scrutinizing had been done.

“Now,” Dumbledore continued calmly, “could you tell us what’s happening here? Why Professor Caesar seems to be having such a… flamboyant exchange with the enhanced lady above us?”

“Oh… Ricky said he was going out to conduct some training with her. But I also don’t understand why he’s making it so noisy.”

“Noisy?” Moody’s single eye twitched. “Little girl, that is blatantly ignoring the Sacred Secrecy Act. Aren’t you afraid of the consequences? And as an accomplice, you would also have to answer for it—”

“I’d like to see who would dare to question her, boy.”

A sudden, heavy voice cut through Moody’s ranting, and everyone instinctively turned to their sides and saw a man that, for lack of a better word, looked like Hercules himself, with hair as majestic as a lion’s mane, arms crossed over his chest, descended from above. Two others were there behind him—a man and a woman, both bearing a strong resemblance.

“You…” As soon as Moody laid eyes on the figure, his pupils dilated, recognizing who it was, and he couldn’t help but swallow a dry mouthful.

“Hah…” Fury chuckled quietly behind Isabella. Who’s the boy now, you one-eyed, straight-out-of-a-comic-villain-looking motherfucker. Of course, he didn’t say it aloud, but was pretty happy when Moody, the asshole who had been calling him a boy, received the same treatment.

“Daddy!” Isabella ran over and wrapped her arms around the man. “I thought you’d be the first party to show up…”

“Teacher Simon, Teacher Sarah.” Stepping out of her father’s embrace, Isabella then turned to the pair standing beside him. “Were you both called as well?”

“The kid mentioned in his message that we should find your father,” Sarah answered, giving a light shrug. “So here we are.”

“We’ve actually been here for a while,” Edward added, smiling as he ruffled her hair.

“Indeed, we’ve been here for a while—or you could say we all, by some coincidence, arrived at the same time, isn’t that right, Garling?” Dumbledore curled a smile, looking at Edward, then turned his head once again in the opposite direction.

Subsequently, an exaggeratedly tall woman materialized, as if a veil around her had dropped dramatically. And likewise, she wasn’t alone either; with her were a man and a woman, but they looked considerably older than anyone else currently present in the area. They too came down, standing atop a construct of magic, and landed near them.

“That kid really has the audacity to summon all of us,” the tall woman said, grinning as she swept her eyes across the gathering.

“Old woman, weren’t you supposed to notify Volkov? And what about Takamura?”

Maxime shot him a withering glare. “Your mouth is as foul as ever.” Then, glancing at Isabella, she smiled. “Little girl, you better not learn all of your stupid father’s habits, lest little Raven might reconsider marrying you.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean—”

“Now, now,” Dumbledore cut in quickly, seeing Edward’s temper flare. He turned to the pair behind Maxime and brightened. “Nicolas. Perenelle.”

“Albus. I see your condition has improved somewhat. Have you found a solution already?”

The man speaking was none other than Nicolas Flamel, the grandmaster alchemist and once Dumbledore’s mentor in the art of alchemy. At his words, both Edward and Maxime raised surprised brows and glanced at Dumbledore to hear what he had to say. Even McGonagall, Moody, and the two black-robed figures also cast curious glances, surprised by it.
“Not quite, but yes, I have indeed found some way around it,” he said with a smile and glanced overhead once again. “All thanks to my dear colleague…”

“The kid never mentioned something like that to me,” Edward said, glancing up and down Dumbledore as he washed his magical sense over the old man. “Good for you then, Dumbledore. If what you say is true, then you owe my pupil a grand favor.”

“Hah… why are you trying to sound so high and mighty, mad-lion?” Maxime scoffed. “Just because you are his teacher doesn’t mean it has anything to do with you…”

“No, no,” Dumbledore said, chuckling. “I owe Professor Caesar a great deal, and I don’t deny it.”

BOOM!

BOOOOM!

“I believe it’s about to come to an end,” Dumbledore said suddenly.

At his words, everyone glanced upward once again, following Dumbledore’s line of sight, and saw that with the last crack of thunder, the two trails of light had finally stopped moving.

“Might I suggest we go inside?” Taking his eyes from the skirmish above that seemed to have come to an end, Dumbledore then turned and looked at Maria. “My lady, I hope a few old people like us are welcome at your home...”

Maria, who had been silent all this time with all the big shots arriving in inexplicable ways, finally spoke her first words. “Uh… yes, sir. Please. But my living room isn’t that big; I hope everyone won’t mind.” Even though everyone there had their presence restrained, she couldn’t help feeling nervous under the man’s piercing gaze and seemingly harmless smile.

Dumbledore let out a soft chuckle. “I’m sure, with all of us here, we can find a way to make a bit more room, my dear.”

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 255 - Earth’s United Vanguard (V)

BOOOM!

Like thunder splitting the heavens, a golden comet streaked through the clouds, tearing across the sky at supersonic speed.

It didn’t take her long. Not even halfway through her fall, Danvers had already brought forth the violent energy within her, bending it completely to her will. If her photon blasts could once be compared to a child’s water toy gun, now they were more like a high-pressure fire hose.

The difference was huge, just as he had guessed. His magical sense also confirmed it, that the power radiating from her had reached an unprecedented level, flaring in warning and telling him not to take it lightly.

BOOOM.

BOOOM.

From above, Maverick’s eyes followed the human comet of bright orange tearing through the clouds, each explosive boom echoing as she blasted through one sound barrier after another.

Tsk. It’s like one moment she’s learning to crawl, and the next, she’s out running marathons.

Sigh. Whatever. Anyway, with this overpowered crazy chick as a thug, the plan’s going to go off even smoother.

And why would he call her crazy? Well, because instead of slowing down after those few minutes of getting the hang of it, her objective seems to have changed — or, to be precise, she was now heading straight for him.

Heh. He chuckled, and a slow grin spread across his face as he watched her blaze upward, maybe three, even four times supersonic. Crazy… really crazy.

But his face didn’t look worried in the slightest, if anything, he seemed almost eager, to see if he could take her fist.

Woooosh! BOOM!

Another deafening boom as she crossed yet another barrier. No matter how confident he was in his own cheat, he couldn’t help but feel a bit envious of her.

That’s Mach 6 now. How long has it been? Five minutes since she learned to fly?

Closer. Closer.

The sound of rushing air filled his ears as he watched the glowing figure swell larger in his vision, her fist drawn back and her body wrapped in blazing light.

There was no way he could take her cosmic-powered punch with his bare flesh and bones, no matter how strong the Archmage physique made him.

With that thought, he outstretched both hands. Golden runes began to form before his palms, spinning, connecting, and expanding into a massive, radiant construct — the Shield of the Seraphim. In the same instant, a Protega Maxima from the mage system layered behind it, both glowing with power as he braced for the incoming strike.

What? Was that going a bit overboard? No. This woman, in this state, could clean through spaceships like they were paper, so he wasn’t taking any chances.

That said, the grin now spreading across his face belied any hint of caution.

Woosh!

BOOOOM!

The impact hit with a deafening blast. In a mere fraction of a second, cracks echoed as the Shield of the Seraphim pulsed violently, the air humming with the collision of raw magic and photon energy in a blinding explosion of light.

“Ah, hell...” Maverick muttered through clenched teeth, his coat whipping wildly around him from the sheer wind, heat, and raw power radiating from the aftermath.

Meanwhile, their collision echoed with a terrifying blast, a shrieking roar that seemed to make the sky itself scream. The broken clouds around them burst apart in every direction, exploding outward in a circular shockwave that painted the heavens gold and orange for a fleeting moment.

It was absolutely the right call to double over the shields. They held, barely, but they held. But he wasn’t about to let her overpower him just like that. So in the next moment, he clicked his tongue and pumped even more magic into the barrier, and golden veins of energy raced across its surface, pulsing brighter with every heartbeat.

KRAK-BOOOOM!

And across from him, Danvers mirrored his expression, her entire body radiating molten light, her grin fierce and unrelenting like a blazing sun in front of his eyes.

“Haha. Kid, you asked for this… so let Aunty Carol give you a little lesson!”

“Crazy woman… I was only trying to help…”

KRAK-BOOOOM! KRAK-BOOOOM! KRAK-BOOOOM!

Neither side gave an inch. One grinning like a madwoman, the other, Maverick, gritting his teeth. His barriers held firm, resisting her photon storm, while the energy from both forces mixed and churned like two suns fighting for dominance.

Then… Maverick’s eyes suddenly gleamed, a smirk spreading across his lips. If anyone’s getting spanked, it’s you. And with that thought, he released the defensive spells, both at once.

Her punch ripped through empty air, missing his face by mere inches, the heat from it vaporizing the air between them and scorching the side of his cheek. Maverick twisted, moving with perfect timing, his body turning as his arm pulled back. He channeled all his power into his fist, and with one precise swing, he drove it straight into her ribs.

Cough!

BOOOOM!

The explosion that followed shattered the sky once again. The shockwave spread outward in a roaring burst, tearing through the clouds and leaving the air trembling in its wake.

Danvers shot the opposite direction like a blazing comet, streaking across the heavens at incredible speed. Trails of golden energy and fiery mist followed her path, lighting up the atmosphere as she flew through miles in seconds. Her faint groan echoed through the wind before fading away, her glowing form shrinking into the distant horizon.

But just as Maverick exhaled the breath he’d been holding, he saw the fleeting, blazing energy—after letting out a BOOM—suddenly shoot upward, then make a sharp 90-degree turn, aiming straight at him again.

“Fuck!”

---

Some time earlier

Inside Maria’s property, Maria, Fury, Coulson, Isabella, and Talos sat in the living room, hashing out their roles for when Ronan’s fleet arrived. While the heavy hitters would hold off the attacks, the rest would mostly monitor—but they were well aware it wasn’t going to be as easy as it sounds.

“Ricky said he’d have Uncle Ali and some of his people stationed with us too. We’ll be inside Uncle Ali's magical construct, and with the barrier up, we can record everything from all angles…” Isabella said, glancing around and tapping her finger on the table.

“I still can’t believe I’d be stuck directing a movie. I’m a Level Six agent, ya know. I should be on a fighter jet, blasting the alien bastards. All that kid’s fault. The director forced me to follow orders.”

Maria arched an eyebrow from across the couch. “Can you even fly a jet?”

“I…” Fury opened his mouth, closed it, and muttered, “not the point.”

“You know, we could take the Quinjet.” Talos leaned forward, a subtle gesture toward Maria punctuating his words. “Lady, if you’re as good a pilot as you say you are… we could really make a difference...”

After learning that Earth would be raising its full force—at least eight unfathomable beings as strong as Maverick, someone the green alien from their very first meeting had considered demigod-level—Talos was now confident they could, at the very least, drive Ronan’s fleet back to where it came from.

“I say we do as Mr. High Councilor said. Just sit this one out, sir,” Coulson said, fixing his tie and looking at Fury, his boss.

And then, all of a sudden, BOOOM! They all heard a deafening sound from outside and jumped in alert.

“I think it’s coming from above…”

With solemn expressions, everyone moved toward the door and stepped outside into the yard.

“What in the goddamn—” Fury muttered in his typical language, “is happening now?”

Their heads tilted all the way back, and high above, somewhere within the blanket of clouds, they saw a massive crater-like formation, and at its center, a blazing star.

Fury’s gaze stayed fixed on the blazing point, and his brow creased, lips pressing into a thin line. “Didn’t the kid say he was taking Danvers out for a... little, training session?”

And just as he uttered, they all saw that same blazing point suddenly get veered sideways like a rocket, slicing through the clouds and bursting them apart in its wake.

BOOOM! And seconds later, a deafening crack, sharp as a gunshot, rolled through the air and reached their eardrums.

Then, just as suddenly, they watched the blasted-away blaze of light come to an abrupt stop.

“My god… are they… fighting? Is that what’s causing this?” Maria voiced what everyone was already thinking.

But no one made any comment, too awed—or too terrified—by what they were seeing. Their eyes tracked the blazing point streaking across the sky again, making a sudden, sharp 90-degree turn, streaking even faster before slamming head-on—bright orange against dark gray.

They separated, gained some distance, and crashed into each other again.

And again. Once, twice, thrice... they zigzagged, twisted, and collided in bursts of light and thunder.

Boom!

Boom!

Each impact split the heavens apart like craters in the sky, then the two streaks would spiral around and clash — like a furious, dazzling dance of destruction.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Within minutes, the blanket of white clouds overhead looked like Swiss cheese, full of holes punched clean through.

“At this rate, they’ll set off alarms across the whole damn country,” Fury muttered. “Or did the kid’s—what’s it called—wand, ward, whatever—cover the whole city this time and not just this property? ’Cause if not, every goddamn newspaper will have this on the front page tomorrow.”

But before anyone could answer, a voice — rough and composed, but at the same time unfamiliar — drifted from behind them.

“You are absolutely correct, boy from Muggle America. Our dear Speaker seems to be showing a rather casual ignorance for the sacred Secrecy Act.”

Click. Click.

Everyone snapped their heads toward the sound, while Fury and Talos instinctively had their guns leveled.

It was a group of elaborately dressed figures, standing not far away, and except may be Isabella, none of them had the faintest clue who they were at first.

At the front was clearly the leader: a middle-aged man in blue robes draped over a sharp suit, a gray half-top hat on his head, and a neatly trimmed silver beard. To his right stood a woman in a sleek mix of modern and traditional attire, her pointed hat giving her a commanding look. Beside her, a shorter man with a goatee and round glasses wore a robe over a suit, like a scholar ready for action.

To the supposed leader’s left stood a tall, battle-hardened man. His reinforced tactical coat was lined with glowing patterns, and he had only one natural eye — the other a prosthetic that pulsed faintly blue. A jagged scar ran across his cheek, and his missing arm had been replaced by a metallic prosthetic that hummed quietly, intricate glowing lines tracing its surface. From a glance, he was exactly the kind of guy you didn’t want to mess with.

Next to him were two more figures, cloaked in dark robes pulled over their heads like hoodies. Their faces were hidden, and the way the robes draped over them gave off an eerie aura that made the air itself hum.

Fury’s jaw tightened at the sight, and the words left his mouth before his brain caught up. “Which one of you assholes just called me a boy?”

By the time he processed it, his eyes widened in recognition. Standing before him was someone he knew from S.H.I.E.L.D. records — the Chief Warlock, they said. Albus… goddamn… Dumbledore.

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 254 - Earth’s United Vanguard (IV)

Tuck. Tuck. Tuck.

The spiraling staircase leading to Hogwarts’ Headmaster’s office wound ever upward, its stones cool and shadowed in the late hours of the evening. Torches flickered along the walls, their flames casting restless shadows that crawled across the curve of the stair.

Halfway along the curved stone path, a stern-faced, elegantly dressed woman was seen ascending steadily, her heels striking the surface in rhythmic tucks that echoed through the silence, while the dark mantle over her shoulder swung in graceful arcs behind her.

She climbed steadily, higher and higher, her expression unchanging, until at last she saw the path come to an end, where she was met with two stone gargoyles, their eyes fixed forward in eternal vigilance, as if daring any intruder to take another step.

But she was no intruder, and her poise even suggested that she had long grown accustomed to this routine.

“Fizzing Whizzbee,” she muttered, looking squarely at the gargoyles, not so much as a twitch disturbing her stern yet strikingly beautiful face. It was evidently some kind of password, however oddly out of place it sounded.

At her words, the stone guardians stirred without a beat, the gargoyles slowly sliding aside to reveal what lay beyond.

“Albus, I have just received—”

The moment she took her first step, words were already on her lips; clearly, from the way she had marched up the spiraling staircase without pause made it clear she was eager to address them to whomever was on the other side.

But her words caught in her throat, halted midway by surprise. It wasn’t just Albus Dumbledore in the room; someone else was there too. And what truly made her pause was the fading white mist of a Patronus—the same one that had appeared at her office not long ago, which was also precisely the reason for her abrupt visit.

"It seems I wasn’t the only one sent the message…" She glanced between the two before walking to the desk and taking a seat beside her colleague.

“Filius, I take it you’ve just arrived as well?”

“Ah, yes, Professor McGonagall. The message… well, it seemed rather urgent, wasn’t it? And Professor Caesar specifically instructed to go directly to the Headmaster.”

“Mine too…”

Together, they then turned their attention across the desk to Albus Dumbledore, waiting for his word. Clearly, both were here with purpose, and it was evident their reasons were the same as well.

“I do not have the answers you seek, Minerva, Filius,” the old wizard said, glancing between them with a rare seriousness, the usual twinkle in his eyes absent. “The messages I received were the same as what Filius told me, and I imagine yours were no different, Minerva.”

“A great danger… terrible enough to engulf the entire world?” McGonagall murmured.

“Indeed. For Professor Caesar to summon us all, the threat he speaks of must be as serious as he claims—enough to endanger the entire world.”

“Did he share no other details with you?” she asked again. “Besides that we should come immediately?”

“No…” Dumbledore said quietly. “Only that more would be needed.”

“More?” McGonagall’s eyes widened for a moment. “More than just us?”

“Indeed.” While saying, his gaze then turned to the corner of the room, softening as it landed there.

“Fawkes.”

The phoenix lifted its head at the sound of its master’s call and, with a graceful beat of its wings, glided across the chamber to perch upon the desk. Dumbledore reached out, running his fingers along the fiery plumage with practiced familiarity. Then he spoke, though not in any human tongue—his words flowed as a melodic sound, half-song, half-incantation, filling the room with an almost tangible resonance.

“I haven’t heard the Headmaster speak Phoenix-tongue in ages…” Flitwick murmured, listening to the melodic exchange between the bird and its master.

“I suppose she’s being tasked with bringing the others who will accompany us,” McGonagall added.

“Thank you, my friend…” Dumbledore murmured, the last words in English, while the phoenix cocked its head, as if understanding, giving a solemn nod in response.

And with that, the mythical bird spread its wings wide and vanished in a flare of fire, briefly bathing the chamber in golden light.

"Who else is coming?" McGonagall asked as soon as Fawkes had disappeared.

"Alester... as well as two old friends from the Department of Mysteries…" Dumbledore replied.

"Unspeakables?" McGonagall arched a brow.

"I can understand Alester, Headmaster… but are the other two truly necessary?" Flitwick, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, also asked, slightly taken aback by the names.

“I hope they won’t be, but… they are all great magi nonetheless. It’s best to be prepared for the worst,” Dumbledore said, nodding firmly to the two. “We shall depart immediately once they arrive.”

---

Meanwhile, the other messengers that Maverick had scattered across to Europe and America were also finding their way to their targets, with some already having located their intended recipients and delivered their messages.

The ones that took longer did so because, when Maverick scattered his Patronuses through the portals, he had only a rough idea of where each person might be. However, even if his guesses were off, it would only delay their mission briefly; so long as they were fueled with enough magic, the Patronuses would unfailingly find their targets.

The speed of his Patronus was not to be underestimated. Just because the corporeal took the form of a bird doesn’t mean it flew at the same speed. In other words, its wings cut through the air far faster than any bird born of feather and bone—magic, obviously. Nor was this unique to him; all corporeal Patronuses could travel at extraordinary speeds, which was precisely why so many capable witches and wizards relied on them as messengers.

One found its target in France, while in England, apart from Hogwarts, a few also flew to Buckingham Palace—specifically to the two great mages serving the country’s monarch. In America, one touched down at the Garling residence, another at the home of the Scamanders, and a third and fourth sought out the Walker twins.

Basically, every witch or wizard of the Great Magus rank or higher, whom Maverick was personally acquainted with or otherwise counted as a friend, was included to receive the message, with each summons subtly tailored to its recipient.

And beyond the magical world, a silver Patronus was also seen gliding over the northern outskirts of New York, threading through dense forests and sleepy towns until it reached a vast clearing where a sprawling mansion loomed. Its mission was not for a witch or wizard, but for another extraordinary group—the most numerous besides the magicals who shared their world.

The mutants. Well, maybe not all of the adult X-Men under Charles would prove particularly useful for the kind of interception Maverick had in mind, but some, say, Ororo, aka the Storm, could undoubtedly play a role in it.

The rest, he didn’t mind them joining as well, though the best they could do was observe from inside their X-Jet. On the other hand, their presence would serve as a boost to their reputation, and Maverick didn’t mind lending a helping hand in that regard.

The Patronus hovered over the clearing for a moment first, because finding its target was not as easy. There was no clear magical trail to follow like its other brother birds did, and only had some descriptive instructions its master had installed as a reference. Eventually, though, the clever fellow managed to spot the bald man in the wheelchair, the one he was programmed to recognize.

When it slipped through the topmost window, it immediately raised alarms for the individuals in the room. Obviously, after all, how often does one welcome a glowing white raven?

Yes, two others were nearby as well, quietly occupied with their own matters when it appeared so inexplicably, but the bird paid them no attention. It had one job, no, two. So it flew straight to its designated target, then flapping its wings to hover steadily and marked the first task as complete. Then, it moved on to the next...

“Professor Charles Xavier…”

Amid the vigilant gazes of everyone present, the ethereal bird of white mist began to speak. At first, it startled them—a glowing bird was not something you saw every day, and a talking, glowing bird even less—but soon the familiarity of the voice settled over the room.

“For fuck’s sake, it’s the damn magical kid…” The hulking, ever-vigilant Wolverine was the first to relax, recognizing the voice, and then retracted his claws before glancing toward the professor.

“Let’s hear it first…” Charles added a beat later, raising a hand in a gesture.

“This is a recorded message,” brother bird continued. “Our world is facing a grave threat from an extraterrestrial civilization, which I have confirmed will arrive on our planet in less than 24 hours. It will be a fleet of no fewer than 50 spaceships, each as large as a football stadium, fully armed with advanced technology and ballistic missiles powerful enough to obliterate entire cities. I have sent summons to all the forces representing our world, including you, the mutants. So as soon as you are able, please arrive with your team at location XX. I await your arrival...”

The Patronus, once its mission was complete, did not linger for a second longer and dissipated before the now shocked and speechless people inside.

What they would do next—whether to believe the message or ignore it—was entirely up to them.

---

Meanwhile, back at Maria’s property, after Maverick had sent out his Patronus, it wasn’t just about sitting around waiting for everyone to arrive. Aside from the non-combatant Skrulls, everyone had something to do and was keeping themselves busy.

Fury, tasked with keeping the World Security Council and world leaders updated, was busy coordinating with S.H.I.E.L.D., along with his trusted sidekick ready to assist whenever needed. Yes, Coulson was there too, now. When Fury asked Maverick if he could "magic the guy" over, Maverick had him teleported straight to the location

Isabella was also on Fury’s team, since her objective wasn’t much different from his mission to live-transmit everything happening here to the World Security Council. So Maverick figured, they might as well work together.

Of course, Isabella wouldn’t just be streaming live to the World Security Council and the muggle world leaders. Her audience would also include the entire magical world—meaning every magical household, pub, or public station with a Magic Vision installed would be able to watch everything unfold in real time.

Maverick was sure the World Security Council would keep all news of the alien invasion from the public, and the muggle governments would have to follow that order. That said, if the skirmish does reaches the Earth’s surface, it would be a different story, and the muggle leaders would have no choice but to admit what had happened.

But if everything went according to Maverick’s plan, that scenario would never come to pass, and Ronan’s forces would be repelled long before they even reached Earth’s atmosphere.

The magical world, however, was different and did not have many rules on spreading news of what happens in the muggle world to their general public. The problem only occurs when it is the other way around—news of the magical world spreading among muggles. Therefore, as long as the Statute of Secrecy wasn’t broken, there was nothing, legally or otherwise, stopping Isabella from broadcasting the whole event live to the entire magical community.

As for Talos, well, most of the capable Skrulls under his command were no longer breathing, unfortunately, but their science guy was still a very useful asset. Maverick had him work on a device to pinpoint exactly when and where Ronan’s fleet would drop out of their space jump, which, if he could pull it off, would be extremely advantageous for the Earthlings side.

Even though Maverick already had a rough idea of when the Accuser's forces would reach the planet, knowing the exact time and coordinates would save him a ton of prep time for the ambush and, more importantly, greatly reduce the risk of any attack reaching Earth’s surface.

And this guy, Morax, when Maverick first asked if he could pull it off, didn’t even flinch—just called it “simple” and dove right into the work. The result remains to be seen for now, but he really couldn’t be underestimated when it came to creating or tweaking tech. After all, he had managed to turn a Quinjet prototype into a full-fledged spaceship capable of surviving and navigating outer space in under a day.

There was no way Maverick would let a genius like that slip away from him. Besides, his outer space project was about to kick start, and the Skrulls were basically looking for a safe place to settle, and out of the Kree’s reach. If Maverick could provide them both conditions, he would thus gain another powerful ally working under him.

Maverick and Danvers weren’t idle either while everyone else was busy with their own tasks. With Danvers, Maverick felt she still hadn’t quite reached the level she had when Ronan’s forces arrived on Earth in the Captain Marvel movie, so he wanted to handle that little detail.

Specifically, she still hadn’t mastered flying with her photon energy powers, and without that, she was basically as useless as any regular person for the plan Maverick had in mind to confront Ronan.

And it wasn’t just about flying. Once she mastered it, the photon energy would cover her entire body like an invisible armor, a seriously overpowered layer that could make her almost invulnerable to most attacks. It was absolutely necessary for her to get it under control before Ronan’s forces arrived.

But there was only one way he could think of—quick enough—to get her instincts to pick up that ability.

So he took the blond for some good old training, and presently, they were seen perched atop a magical construct Maverick had created, hovering a couple of kilometers above the Earth's surface, while he explained what the exercise was all about.

“…You see, we magicals have this special ability—call it magical sense, or a sixth sense if you prefer—and it lets us gauge how strong someone is just by sensing their aura.”

“Aura…?” Danvers tilted her head, arms crossed over her chest, clearly puzzled.

“Life energy, magical energy, or, you could even call it threat level. And for that reason, I’m certain you’ve barely scratched the surface of your abilities...”

“…”

“Uh-huh… uh-huh…” Danvers tapped her chin thoughtfully as she considered Maverick’s explanation. “…so you must have a plan, then. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have brought me all the way up here...”

“I do, in fact.” Maverick gave her a knowing smile. “My plan is simple. Let your instincts take over, and let your subconscious master full control of your photon energy powers as quickly as possible.”

“Riiight…” she dragged the words, a hint of skepticism in her tone. “And how, exactly?”

“It’s very simple… you just have to… not die.”

“I what—”

“Goodbye, Danvers.”

You... aaaaaaas... hooooole!

Maverick watched her fall, her final shout echoing in the wind, while two beams of photon energy shot past him from his left and right, missing by a mile, clearly fired by Danvers as she struggled to control herself under the pull of gravity.

Anyway, she's all on her own now. Whether it’s the adrenaline pumping through her veins or the fear of turning into meat paste, she has to find a way to control her power if she’s going to be truly useful for the ambush against Ronan.

It was in a similar way that she learned it in the original movie, and he basically just applied the same settings here.

—————————

Author’s Note:

Man, this chapter nearly drove me insane. I had all the ideas and points lined up in my head, but no matter how much I wrote, deleted, rewrote, and deleted again, nothing felt right.

But I couldn’t just skip it either. I felt like before the big gathering, this part was necessary... you know, to show how the other groups were reacting and what Maverick’s side was up to.

At first it turned out way too long, filled with repetition, so I scrapped a lot and only kept the Hogwarts reactions, brushing over the rest. Then I ran into some plot holes and had to patch those up too… and yeah, this is what I ended up with.

I’m honestly still not happy with it, but I really did my best. Hopefully it was at least readable. I think I lost a few brain cells pulling this one together. Sigh.

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 253 - Earth’s United Vanguard (III)

“AAAARRRRHHHHH!”

Yon-Rogg’s scream tore through the ruined chamber, reverberating off the broken metal like the howl of a dying beast. It was certainly not something anyone would expect from a hardened general like him—least of all Danvers, who knew him too well.

She found herself staring with narrowed eyes. It was an unsettling sight, seeing the stern commander break so… easily. After all, he had still been her mentor not long ago, even if she had later learned he was only deceiving.

“What’s happening to him?” she muttered under her breath, almost to herself.

“Ricky’s in his head.” Beside her, Isabella rubbed her chin thoughtfully, as if the spectacle sparked more curiosity than revulsion. “I wonder if it feels the same as reading a human’s mind…”

Danvers whipped her head toward her, a brow raised. “You can even do mind reading? You magicians have so many abilities…”

“I suppose you could say that…”

In fact, witches and wizards have only one ability, and that’s magic. Spells are just the result of using that power in different ways. But it’s only natural for non-magical people to think otherwise.

Crack…
Shhhh…
Clatter… clatter…

The chamber echoed continuously with sparking wires, groaning metal, and leaking gas, all blending with the Kree commander’s scream—the loudest sound of them all.

The two women continued observing silently. Isabella obviously knew better than to disturb someone rampaging through another’s mind with Legilimency, while Danvers had too many thoughts racing to know where to begin.

A few minutes later, hesitantly, she finally voiced one of the thoughts nagging her the most.

“Say… can all of you do what… your fiancé is doing?”

Isabella glanced at her, and seeing the curiosity she couldn’t hide, a small chuckle escaped her lips. “Theoretically,” she said, shrugging. “But Ricky isn’t exactly someone you compare with the rest of us.”

“Really… is he really that impressive?” Danvers pressed, a smile infecting her as well, seeing Isabella’s nonchalance.

“Ehem… ladies…” Maverick’s voice cut in suddenly as he cleared his throat, putting a stop to their little gossip. After severing the mental connection from the Kree commander, he turned to the two women. “You two can gossip some other time… we need to head back to Earth and meet up with Fury.”

He had just finished tearing through the alien’s mind, and, as expected of a commander of the Kree Empire’s army, Yon-Rogg knew many of their secrets—even some of their intergalactic military’s “hidden cards,” so to speak.

Of course, there were also the details of the fleet he now knew for certain was heading their way: its size, exactly when it would arrive, basically everything.

“Is it really as bad as Talos said?” Isabella asked, frowning slightly.

“Maybe…” Maverick also narrowed his eyes, a thoughtful look settling over him as he considered the armada approaching their planet.

He had seen, through Yon-Rogg’s memories, exactly who Ronan was. The Accuser was indeed as formidable as Talos had said—especially with his Universal Hammer and armor. But that was only to the likes of someone at Yon-Rogg’s level. To Maverick, Yon-Rogg was nothing more than just another extra, and he had full confidence that, with his current abilities, he could handle Ronan.

That said, that’s only if it’s Ronan alone. His fleet of fully armored starships, capable of firing hundreds of ballistic warheads, was another matter entirely. Even if he could take down Ronan in a short span of time, who’s to say one of the ships wouldn’t target a city—or all of them hit random locations in the meantime?

Of course, if push came to shove, those two old farmers wouldn’t sit idly by either; he was sure of that. But he didn’t want them interfering in this.

No, he needed to call in some muscle for this. It would also be the perfect opportunity to convince those old things of his plans for the coming year. Having witnessed it firsthand, they would only understand that the magical world no longer had the luxury to play hide-and-seek.

Plus, there’s Danvers too—the future Captain Marvel. Though not yet at the level of piercing through battleships as if they were made of tofu, she had still leveled up considerably in overall power after breaking free from the Kree’s control.

Hmm.

Speaking of… what’s up with her?

"Carol?"

Following her dazed gaze, he saw it was Yon-Rogg—his unconscious body lying on the floor, she seemed to be lost in thought about, as if in some deep contemplation.

“Why… feeling sorry for your old teacher?” he asked, guessing the thought troubling her.

"No..." she said without looking.

“He’s not dead, if you’re wondering. Or I can make him disappear for you... if you don’t have the stomach—”

Boooom!

But before he could finish his sentence, Yon-Rogg’s head suddenly exploded, even his blue Kree blood vaporizing wherever the blast struck.

“—or maybe not.”

Danvers took a long inhale, exhaling as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Then, glancing back at Maverick, she added confidently, “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m not that fragile...”

Maverick’s brow arched. Well, that was true—she hadn’t even flinched at killing her former mentor.

“Ricky, come on tell us what you found out from the alien’s memories?” Isabella chimed in just then, steering the conversation back to the topic.

“I’d like to know that too...”

"Hmm…" Glancing between the two blondes, he thought briefly once again about Yon-Rogg’s memories.

"It’s like this… the bad news is, the Accuser’s fleet really is heading toward Earth, led by Ronan himself. And the not-so-bad news…" He glanced at his watch before continuing, "is that we still have about twenty-one hours. Oh, and… he won’t be bringing his entire fleet—just fifty out of the hundreds of starships under his command. At least, that’s what our headless friend knew."

Isabella’s expression instantly darkened, her thoughts dwelling on the worst that could happen: fifty enormous warships, each the size of a football stadium, armed to the teeth with advanced alien weapons. Seeing the Kree ship they were in, she could only picture how overwhelming fifty of these would be.

She had seen Kree weapons firsthand and knew just how devastating their arsenal could be. And what about the even bigger armaments that would obviously be built into their starships?

She wasn’t naive about science. Even human technological weapons had evolved to the point of leveling entire cities; so what about an advanced alien civilization? How much would their technology, their weapons, have evolved? To her credit, her concerns were very real.

Meanwhile, Danvers, on the other hand, didn’t seem surprised by what Maverick said—worried, yes, but not taken aback.

“What you said matches what he told me too… when he was trying to convince me to give up.” She met Maverick’s gaze with a determined look. “This whole thing started with me, so I’ll do my best to repel them from Earth.”

As expected from a soldier trained by a hardened alien general, her answer was exactly what he anticipated.

"I can tell you more..." she continued. "Each Imperial cruiser carries three warheads capable of leveling a small city, not to mention the dozens of mini-fighter pods aboard each." She paused, having thought of something, then added, "But I’m fairly certain he won’t target C53 with the arsenal he’s bringing. At best, it’s all for intimidation."

“Oh…” Maverick gave her a questioning look. “Do you know him that well... enough to be so certain?”

“I don’t… In all my six years with them, I’ve never met him once. But every Kree knows his character, his deeds. He’s a ruthless warmonger, yes, but he won’t engage any party unless he’s certain of an absolute victory.”

“Let me guess—you think it’s the All-Father’s wrath he wants to avoid?” Maverick asked.

“That’s right,” Danvers said matter-of-factly.

“Are you talking about the King of Asgard from the legends?”

“The one and only,” Maverick said to Isabella, then, turning back to Danvers, added,

“Your guess isn’t far off, but…” he shook his head. “From what I saw in Yon-Rogg’s memories, during his talk with Ronan, the Accuser was convinced Odin wouldn’t step in—even if he attacked this planet. Apparently, Asgard was tied up with something else at the time, and the All-Father couldn’t spare his army shortly.”

Then with a last shrug, he added, “anyways, that’s how it looked from their conversation.”

“Are you saying he’s really coming to this planet for conquest?” For the first time, Danvers lost her composure, and a deep worry crossed her face. Until now, her greatest assurance had been the universal fact that Earth was a dominion protected by Asgard. But if what Maverick said was true…

She also didn’t doubt Maverick’s words or his account of Yon-Rogg’s memories with Ronan. In her mind, there was no reason to lie about something like that, so the thought never even crossed her.

And Maverick did not lie on his part. That’s what Yon-Rogg’s recent conversation with Ronan was about. Only, he may have left out some details about a certain blue cube. But hey, she didn’t ask.

"No, not for conquest," he answered her. "Even if Asgard were otherwise occupied, Odin wouldn’t let one of his realms fall into ruin. Ronan told Yon-Rogg he wanted to teach, and I’m quoting here, these primitive monkeys a lesson… for giving asylum to terrorists."

"By lesson, you mean hitting a few cities with their weapons?" Isabella asked, nonetheless looking worried.

"Well… they didn’t go into the specifics," Maverick replied, turning to her.

Danvers gave him a long, piercing look, as if searching for something.

“What?”

“Why… don’t you seem troubled?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“Because…” Maverick said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

---

Ssssssss

Sparks of orange flared suddenly in the middle of the quinjet that was just about to land next to Maria’s property, drawing startled yelps and gasps from every occupant—human and alien alike—crammed inside its small cabin.

Click click.

One handgun and one energy blaster were immediately raised at the orange circle that had formed, but then lowered just as quickly when three figures stepped through it—casually, as if they were just walking out of an ordinary doorway.

“Danvers!”

“Carol!”

“Son of a—gun!”

“I figured you’d come flying in on that big damn bird of yours,” Fury said, lowering his gun. “But a goddamn portal never crossed my mind.”

"Hello to you too, Agent Fury..." Maverick replied back to the bastard who couldn’t string three words together without a curse coming out of his mouth.

"What about Yon-Rogg? Have you taken care of him?" Talos chimed in from the side, and every pair of eyes turned toward the three, waiting expectantly.

“Let’s just say they’ve all tasted hellfire,” Maverick answered casually, then, with a glance to the man, he added, “Oh, and my apologies. I’ve claimed your people’s last refuge as my spoil.”

“It was scrap metal already, barely holding together in the state it was in,” Danvers cut in. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you a new cruiser. Maybe more than one.”

Minutes later, the quinjet touched down smoothly, and the group disembarked, making their way into Maria’s house.

“By the way,” Maverick said, sitting at the dining table and tearing a toast in half before sliding one piece across to Fury, “why hole up here? Why not D.C. or S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ?”

Fury eyed the toast like it was something vulgar, and shoved it back. “I’m waiting on you. Or did you forget you’re a High Councilor of the World Security Council, Mr. High Councilor?”

That, of course, was a lie. He had already briefed everything he knew to Pierce, but Pierce’s answer was simple, even a little inexplicable to Fury: follow Maverick’s lead on how to proceed.

And reading the thought, Maverick also grew confused. What’s the matter with Pierce? What’s he cooking? He considered a few possibilities, then dismissed them just as quickly.

Or he could simply just ask. Anyways, the plan he had in mind required talking to the head of the Snake’s Den.

“Call your boss… I want to speak to him.”

“Pierce?”

“Who else?”

Fury made a lazy shrug, then did as told and before long a rough male’s voice came from the other line hitting Maverick’s ear.

“Archmage Maverick Caesar…”

“Director,” Maverick replied evenly. “I’ll be direct. In twenty hours, a fleet of fifty warships—each the size of a football stadium and armed to the teeth—is heading for Earth. I don’t need to explain why. You can guess. But…” He made a long pause, and Pierce, even after the bombshell, did not interrupt and waited patiently for him to continue.

"...From S.H.I.E.L.D., Agent Fury is enough as a line operative to assist, and, to be honest, neither you nor S.H.I.E.L.D. has the ability to assist in the plan I have to repel the coming invaders… Agent Fury will however stream everything that’s happening, and what I really want you to do is share it live with every head of state around the world. Get them in a conference in the short time we have until I give further notice. Do you have any questions?"

The line on the other end was silent for a moment, then just as calmly as before, Pierce asked, "Could you share your plan to… stop these fleets of alien spaceships?"

“Gladly,” Maverick replied with the faintest smile. “We’ll meet them with a united vanguard... the full might of Earth, standing together. Here’s how it will unfold…”

Half an hour later, after having answered Pierce’s doubts—or more accurately, just giving him a straightforward answer and not caring whether he believed it or not—Maverick handed the phone back to Fury.

While he was explaining everything, Fury had been listening with all kinds of expressions coming to his face, and Maria, Danvers, Talos, and Isabella had also joined the table at some point and had been listening.

"Are you sure you can pull this off in such a short time, kid? This is the safety of the whole world we’re dealing with here after all."

"Can you suggest a better idea, Mr. Agent Nicholas Joseph Fury?" Maverick raised a brow at the man.

"How the hell did you—"

“You have mine,” Talos cut in just in time, and with a solemn expression, he continued, “along with the full support of the soldiers still standing with me, mage Caesar.”

“And mine,” Danvers added without hesitation. She glanced toward Maria, then back at Maverick with a faint smile. “This is my home too.”

“Good,” Maverick said, rising from his chair. “Then I’ll send the signal immediately for everyone to summon…”

“Ricky...” Isabella called softly, hurrying after him, while the others followed, curious about what this summoning could mean.

Outside, once he reached the center of the yard, Maverick made no pretense and summoned his magic. The others watched from behind, their eyes following his long coat fluttering in the wind as he slowly raised his right hand, as if lifting something heavy, until it stretched high above his head.

"Expecto Patronum!"

First, there was an almost blinding white light and everyone instinctively closed their eyes, and then opened them a moment later.

With astonishment and even sparkles from the few Kree children’s eyes, they all saw a thick mass of white fume-like substance rising from his outstretched arm, gathering into a massive ball over their heads. Though it was past four in the afternoon and the sun still shone brightly, the white mass was unmistakably visible, growing larger and larger until it loomed over them, as massive as the house itself, like a floating cloud.

Then, when they all thought it was over, they saw the massive mass of light wobble and churn, morphing into a shape. First came a head—a bird, a raven to be more accurate—as if breaking free from fog. Then formed wings, wide, as wide as fifty meters spanning in total.

Once, twice, and continuing, until finally a majestic white raven flapped its wings over the property—but surprisingly, when such a large wingspan should have produced huge gusts of wind, nobody felt anything.

Everyone’s heads were tilted up, looking at the giant, beautiful, whiter-than-snow bird as large as the house itself over their heads, and they couldn’t help but feel inexplicably happy just by looking at it.

“It’s so… beautiful,” someone whispered.

“What… what is that?”

“I’ve never felt so… happy… looking at a damn bird of all things.” It wasn’t hard to guess from whom that came from.

Infact, they weren’t even aware of the comments they were making, before they saw the giant raven then suddenly stop flapping its wings, but still remain in mid-air.

Then its white, ethereal body started to glow even more before suddenly it started to disintegrate—no, it started breaking up into… more birds. More ravens, over a dozen?

“What’s happening…” Danvers asked, nudging Isabella by the arm.

“Oh… ah… I think Ricky’s sending messages to all the people he mentioned over the phone earlier, telling them to gather here… I guess,” Isabella said, a little unsurely.

Is this what they mean by ‘send the ravens’?

Meanwhile, Maverick poured his magic, and more importantly, the thoughts he wanted to convey to each and every part of his Patronus. Isabella was not wrong, and what he was doing was no small feat at all.

Every raven would go to a different person, and every message would be slightly different to each, so a lot of concentration and magic was poured into this seemingly simple operation. Not to mention the distance the Patronus had to cover—the energy doesn’t fall from a tree, but it’s his magic it will be using.

Fortunately, at least he could teleport them nearby, roughly guessing where each person would be.

Instilling the messages, since they were different for each, took some time, and roughly ten minutes later, he finally moved from his strange posture of hands stretched up while magical birds flew all around him.

Then, everyone saw he started making strange circles in the air, and subsequently, over a dozen orange circles formed scattered over his head.

"Go!"

He said, and all the white birds, as if already having known what to do, flew into their respective portals.

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 252 - Earth’s United Vanguard (II)

“Huff… huff…”

Her chest heaved, shoulders rising and falling as her eyes swept over the figures surrounding her. Once, they had been her companions… once, he had been her mentor… once, they were the ones she had fought side by side with across star systems. It would be a lie to say she had never felt genuine camaraderie with them. She had—once.

And yet… now, she felt nothing. Years of lies. Years of manipulation. The “guidance” she had been given, she realized now, was nothing more than a cage, made to hold her back and keep her under their thumb.

Not anymore. Her resolve was burning at this moment, fueled by memories of the days she had been deceived, and so was the source of her power within her. They would fall—she would make them fall. Her eyes narrowed squarely on her so-called mentor. Just like the countless traitors who had betrayed her, now scattered dead or groaning across the metal floor, he too would pay the price.

“I never thought the dog I fed all these years would turn on me like this.”

Yon-Rogg, panting, scanned the ruined hangar and let out a bitter laugh, his cold eyes locking back onto Danvers. “I wanted to take you back at first, to reprogram you. But I’ve changed my mind now, ungrateful woman.”

Danvers ignored their taunts, pausing only to catch her breath. She still had juice left, but her power and her stamina were two different things. The relentless fighting and dodging were starting to take their toll. After all, she had only recently awakened her abilities, and she hadn’t even had the chance for any real practice before being thrown straight into this life-or-death situation.

“I told you from the start we should have gotten rid of her…” another, the only female Kree among them growled at Yon-Rogg upon hearing he had finally changed his mind. Then, sliding a fresh charge into her weapon, she levelled it at Danvers. “Maybe we won’t get to enjoy torturing you,” she snarled. “But once you’re dead, we’ll hunt down your terrorist friends next, and your two human pets.”

Yon-Rogg made no arguments, and neither did the others. Among the many who had fallen, or died, at Danvers’ hands today, there were those who had genuinely been their companions. Kree or not, they were living beings, and bonds were bound to form. And just as easily, hatred could take root when those bonds were broken, especially by betrayal.

And Yon-Rogg wasn’t lying when he said his orders had only been to capture her. Even as he watched countless men fall to her photon blasts, he had never once struck to kill her. It wasn’t compassion or anything, and it wasn’t because she had once been his pupil. He had held back for one reason only: to control her. To take back control of what he saw as the perfect weapon.

Until now. Five were all that was left, including him, out of the hundreds under his command that he had spent years training. More importantly, if they didn’t take her down, it would be them who died by her hands.

Meanwhile, Danvers felt her breath return and finally readied herself to strike again, her fists blazing with raw energy. Her opponents likewise mirrored her stance for the final battle, where only one side would walk away.

“No mercy!” the Kree commander said coldly, eyes locked on her, then signalled his troops into formation. “Attack…kill her!”

Hah!

Boom!

Boom!

Boom!

Blasts of energy and photon beams tore through the chamber in opposite directions, shaking the walls as sparks flew and chunks of metal crashed to the floor.

While his comrades carried ranged weapons, one Kree soldier favored blades as his main, and lunged forward, the swing humming with lethal energy, aiming to slice her in half. Subsequently, another blast came straight for her head, and Danvers ducked just in time, barely avoiding the swinging blade as its wind brushed her hair.

“You will die here, traitor!” the Kree snarled.

“Keep convincing yourself of that, Korath,” Danvers shot back. She countered in the same motion, and a short burst of photon energy that slammed into him, knocking him off balance. Sparks flew as his armor hissed under the impact, but the blast still didn’t pierce the advanced plating over his skin—not yet.

But there was no time to think, as she was one against five Kree elites, and they were now truly trying to kill her. So in that same breath, she twisted her body as another Kree had aimed a high-energy shot straight at her chest.

Hah!

She rolled behind a toppled section of the chamber’s ceiling, the metal groaning under the sudden impact. Taking advantage of the cover and ignoring the Kree who had just fired at her, she unleashed another burst in the same direction as before—straight at Korath, who was struggling to get back on his feet.

“Move!”

His comrade tried to warn him, but the photon blast was too fast. It struck Korath squarely in the shoulder between the armor plates, and this time, he must have truly felt the full brunt of it, letting out a growling scream before crashing backwards.

Korath!

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The Kree were now down to four, but it only made their attacks grow even more ferocious. Photon beams and energy blasts tore through the chamber and out into the open, sparks flying everywhere, while the imperial cruiser trembled in its dying breaths.

“You cannot win, Danvers!” Yon-Rogg shouted through the chaos, firing consecutive blasts that left deafening booms with every dodge Danvers made.

In a fight like this, Yon-Rogg himself was by far the most dangerous to Danvers, so she had always tried to keep her distance from him. Coupled with his enhanced physique and mastery of close combat, Yon-Rogg also possessed advanced technological gear unique for a Kree commander, that granted him buggy abilities like minor gravity manipulation and force field generation, on top of the standard Kree weapons capable of projecting energy blasts.

Moreover, she herself had been personally taught by him, and she knew better than anyone the nasty tricks he kept up his sleeve in close combat—just how truly formidable he was.

Of course, if it came down to a one-on-one fight, with her newly awakened abilities, she could take him; at most, it would only be troublesome. However, with four elite Kree soldiers flanking her from all sides, it wouldn’t be easy. Therefore, keeping him for last was her best option, and it would only be a matter of time.

The sound of Yon-Rogg’s frustrated shout only made her grin, and she pressed her offensive even harder.

“I can keep this up all day, old teacher!” she shouted back from behind a wreckage. At the same time, energy crackled around her arms, and with a sharp outward sweep to her left and right, she unleashed twin blasts toward two of the Kree soldiers hiding behind some twisted metal.

Boom!

Boom!

Chance!

Just as the photon beams crashed into the rubble, her lips curled into a smile, when suddenly, from the corner of her eye, she spotted the female Kree dashing from cover to cover, and she charged her hands again to strike.

It was at that moment, just when she prepared to lunge with her fist, that her body froze all of a sudden, as if her movements had come to an abrupt halt.

Subsequently, her pupils shrank to pinpoints, and a chill ran down her spine.

Rumble!

Something… an incomprehensible force, in that moment, had crashed into her head like a hammer smashing her skull. And it wasn’t just her. The four remaining Kree, too, whether moving or was ducking behind toppled wreckage, were now rooted in place, as if their bodies had been gripped by an unseen, suffocating force.

Rumble!

The entire crumbling chamber groaned, vibrating as if the ship itself were about to tear apart. At first, that’s what they thought, that the Imperial Cruiser was about to explode. But then came the realization: what does that… have to do with why they were feeling like their entire bodies were being pressed down by an invisible force.

Crack!

Crack… shatter… crack.

Amid the solemn atmosphere that had now engulfed every living soul inside the chamber, they were suddenly startled by the sound of something breaking, like a large piece of ice shattering. It was loud—very loud—and, albeit groggily, they still managed to turn their heads toward where the sound was coming from.

Everyone here had seen all kinds of strange things while strolling through the galaxy; even Danvers—though it was only a few years for her—had still seen plenty of the crazy the universe had to offer. But none of it compared to what they were seeing now.

How could seemingly nothing break... out of nowhere?

They saw, at the center of the now-wrecked large chamber they were in, suspended in mid-air, the space itself form a literal crack in a horizontal line, like a crack in glass. And then, just as they thought it couldn’t get any more bizarre, that crack began to expand vertically, like a mouth opening, and gradually turned into what could only be described as a rift—a very, very unscientific space rift.

Boom!

That heavy, suffocating pressure suddenly felt as if it had doubled, like an invisible rain pouring down on them, and of the four Kree still conscious, two simply couldn’t handle it anymore—they rolled their eyes back and passed out.

Now, only Yon-Rogg, the female Kree, and Danvers were conscious, but they too were barely holding onto their senses.

“What… is… that…?”

The female Kree managed to voice aloud what was on all three of their minds: What exactly was this rift in space? What was causing this pressure, as if a mountain were pressing down on them?

Or could it be?

Yon-Rogg suddenly had a bad premonition. This planet, C-53, was also the dominion of God King Odin. Was it he who was descending?

Before coming, he had thought—and was sure—that their actions would not alert Asgard enough to send its army to retaliate. It was no secret across the universe that Odin, once hailed as a tyrant, was now playing the benevolent king, avoiding conflicts with other superpowers.

Therefore, coupled with all that reasoning, unless someone crossed Asgard’s bottom lines, Yon-Rogg was confident that the dignified god-king would not take any action simply because someone had stopped by one of his territories.

Not to mention, this wasn’t the first time the Kree had visited this planet.

Haaah!

Suddenly, he heard Danvers let out a loud, long inhale, as if she had been holding her breath, and he turned his head. Upon looking, he saw that her earlier solemn expression was gone now, and she was getting back to her feet, even casually brushing some dust off her uniform.

Is she no longer feeling this suffocating pressure? he thought.

Her gaze then fixed on the inexplicable rift that had opened in the middle of the room, and he followed her sight back to it, only to see that there now seemed to be some kind of silhouettes inside it.

Humanoid. Could it be that my calculations were wrong, and the All-Father was really coming?

No… His brows furrowed.

The silhouettes were becoming clearer, and... surely they couldn’t be Asgardian. Asgardians do not dress like that.

Earthlings, perhaps? No, that’s even more improbable. The Supreme Intelligence does not have any record of demigods (≈Warlock) or a God-King (≈Supreme) level beings residing on this rock.

Despite the one-sided predicament he was in, his mind had not stopped analyzing the situation.

Gradually, the silhouettes became clearer to him. They were a male and a female, obviously close, judging from the way the female’s arm was around the male.

He kept his head up, and while barely managing under the pressure, he still wanted to see who—or what—was coming out of there.

One thing was certain: they did not look familiar to him. Not their faces—the universe was too vast to recognize someone by face—but judging from what one wore, it was easier to narrow down. On most planets, residents had a distinct style, like a uniform they would wear when venturing across other worlds. It was an unspoken rule of the universe.

And just then, he saw the male slowly turn in his direction, eyes half-open, while the female, on the other hand, looked the opposite way—toward the traitor.

Yon-Rogg didn’t know what came over him when he raised his eyelids to meet the strangers. But when their gazes crossed, he felt only… indifference. Naked, blatant indifference, as if those pairs of eyes were looking at something… lesser.

For a second, he didn’t know whether to feel fortunate or unfortunate—having survived those bottomless eyes, or having been looked down upon by them.

The gaze lingered for only a fraction of a second on him, before turning to Danvers’ side, and then… he saw the stranger, as if recognizing an acquaintance, tug a smile at her.

That… was not a good sign, he thought grimly—a bad premonition jolting through his already heavily pressured body.

---

“I’m guessing you took so long not because you had to change your outfits?” Danvers smiled at Maverick, looking over both of them—the couple.

“I was… farming,” Maverick shrugged, while behind them, the open rift slowly closed, like fabric being patched.

“Farming?”

“Don’t ask… even I have trouble with the language he uses sometimes…” Isabella waved her hand, hopping over some Kree before coming to her side.

“Let me fix that for you…”

Scourgify!

Meanwhile, Maverick glanced across the room and made a quiet tsk, looking at the bloodbath she had created in just a matter of minutes. Kree blood was blue, so perhaps it wasn’t as gruesome as one would think, but still, from a rough count, there were at least a hundred.

He looked at the two Kree again. The female looked like she would pass out any moment, while Yon-Rogg still had his head half-raised, looking at him with reverence.

Commendable willpower.

Maverick’s dominance was still pressing down, but focused solely on the two of them. Hmm—one now, because the female Kree had just fallen on her face, unconscious.

Ignoring the intensifying glare coming from Yon-Rogg, Maverick turned back to Danvers. “Maria, Fury, and Talos with his group are on their way back to Earth, and I came to get you.” Turning again to the Kree commander, he added, “The Accuser Ronan should be on his way now…”

He wasn’t saying it for Yon-Rogg to give him a confirmation or anything.

The next thing Yon-Rogg saw was Maverick pointing his finger at him, then making some kind of beckoning gesture.

“Gaze upon me, alien soldier…”

“What are yo—?” ARRRRRRRR!

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 251 - Earth’s United Vanguard (I)

“You son of a bitch…” The words slipped out of his mouth like muscle memory, as the future director of S.H.I.E.L.D. forced himself upright. Pain flared through his ribs with every movement, but that still didn’t stop him from nailing the hateful brat with a hard glare. Truth be told, he wanted to curse a whole lot more.

“We were damn near buried out here. I swear, if I find out you were just hiding in some goddam corner watching…”

Maverick tilted his head lazily, while a sly curve formed at the corner of his mouth. “Is that how S.H.I.E.L.D. agents thank people who drags them back from the brink?”

“We’ve only just arrived, Mr. Rude Uncle…” Isabella also stepped forward and positioned herself next to Maverick.

“Ricky, I don’t know how long the aliens will remain bound under the hex… Do you want to add any measures of your own?”

Hmm...

At her words, he turned slightly, mulling it over while the others watched. For now, only Fury knew who they were, and the rest were still struggling to process what had just happened.

“They have no use…” Maverick said after a moment’s thought. “…hmm, except perhaps…” he added, lowering his hand from his chin before stretching it forward in a sharp, flicking gesture toward the alien soldiers.

Actually, the communicators they carried looked useful, so he yanked them free from their arms without a shred of mercy.

A souvenir for Howard…. Even better if he could reverse-engineer them.

Then, as soon as the alien tech vanished into his system space, everyone present watched in stunned silence as all ten Kree soldiers suddenly erupted in eerie black flames.

Fyndfire was no ordinary magic—its power grew with the magic feeding it, and under Maverick’s overwhelming magical energy, it devoured its prey with terrifying efficiency. Within seconds, not even ash remained. For the Kree, it could almost be called a mercy—they wouldn’t have felt a thing.

As the black flames vanished, Maverick cast a sideways glance at Isabella, and seeing that her expression hadn’t wavered, he smiled inwardly.

Turning back, he found Fury, Maria, and Talos much the same—the three of them didn’t so much as bat an eye. Only the regular Skrulls seemed slightly unsettled, and even then, just a little.

Good. The last thing he wanted was to get dragged into a moral argument.

“I’m sorry, sir… who exactly are you again?” Maria finally couldn’t keep it to herself and asked, looking at Maverick.

“That’s right… I think some introductions are in order.” Fury flicked his jacket at her question, capturing everyone’s attention, then turned back to his group and gestured toward the duo.

“This… seemingly harmless man here, ladies, gentlemen, and aliens, is a supervisor at S.H.I.E.L.D.—the same agency I work for. In other words, one of us. And the young lady with him, the one who just saved our asses and won’t stop calling me rude, is his fiancée.”

He let that sink in for a beat, then arched an inquiring brow at Maverick. “Oh, and aren’t you two… I don’t know, just casually ignoring your own organization’s secrecy rules or something… parading in front of civilians like it’s a Sunday stroll?”

“Civilians?” he asked, then tilted his head slightly toward Isabella. “Honey, do you see any civilians?”

Isabella mirrored his expression and gave a small shrug.

“I get it...” Fury waved a hand dismissively. “Not my problem.”

With that little episode over, Maverick’s attention next turned to Talos, who was watching him warily.

Good instincts.

“You are Talos, the leader of your species?”

“I…” Talos suddenly felt an inexplicable jolt surge through his body as he tried to nod, but the moment he locked eyes with the elegantly dressed human male, it was like staring directly at an apex predator. That glare felt like it pierced him to the bone, momentarily even blacking out his vision. Dangerous. Extremely dangerous. His instincts screamed warnings through every fiber of his being, but then, just as quickly, the feeling vanished.

He swallowed dryly, staring at the deceptively harmless smile, and knew right then he had to answer every question truthfully.

“Talos…” his wife nudged him from the side, noticing his sudden trance.
“I’m fine,” he told her, then turned back to Maverick. “I am… indeed their leader, Your Excellency,” he said, his green forehead slick with sweat. “And I apologize for breaching your planet and making it a target for the Kree forces… because my people, my family—”

“I’m aware of your… particular situation, Skrull.” Maverick cut him off. “For family, for survival, one can make the most desperate choices.”

Everyone listened intently as Maverick spoke his mind. For Talos, however, Maverick’s words felt far from just casual thoughts, and more like a verdict being passed down on him.

“You are looking for a new home now, are you not?”

“…we are,” Talos replied truthfully.

“Then, once the Kree have been driven far from this planet, we will have much to discuss. If I’m not mistaken, the Kree have already requested aid from their Empire, and I overheard something about the Accusers’ fleet that will be arriving soon…”

“The Accuser?” Talos’s brows furrowed at the name. “Was it… the Accuser Ronan?”

“That’s the name of the person the Kree contacted. Before I arrived, I happened to see one of your people—Morex, was it?—being attacked by this Kree right after he made contact with the other party named Ronan…”

Talos’s eyes snapped wide. “What happened to Morex? Is he alive?”

“He will live. I stopped the last shot aimed at his head,” Maverick continued. “He’s hurt, and I offered to treat him, but he said he could handle it himself, so I didn’t linger—I was in a hurry to get here. Fortunately, I made it just in time.”

“Now hold on a damn second… did you just say you overheard a fleet is likely heading toward our planet? An actual fleet of intergalactic, world-conquering spaceships?” Fury’s face darkened—true to his nature, he was already running through the worst-case scenarios—and this time, he was genuinely in shock.

“Talos, who is this Ronan, and what kind of firepower can we expect from him… in the worst-case scenario, in your opinion?” Ignoring Fury, Maverick asked the green-skinned expert in all things Kree.

Of course, Maverick also had some knowledge of the Kree Empire—and even of Ronan—but he didn’t know which version they were dealing with. If it was just the same “boy” who came after Danvers and ran off like a coward in the Captain Marvel movie, he wasn’t worried. But if it was a comic-book, overglorified version, then he was going to have to start making serious plans.

Everyone turned their attention to Talos, and he, in the most solemn voice began to tell what he knew about the accuser.

“Ronan… or rather, Ronan the Accuser, is not just some Kree warrior. He’s one of the Empire’s deadliest weapons. Trained from birth to enforce Kree law, he’s a master of strategy, hand-to-hand combat, and armed warfare. His strength, precision, and ruthlessness are terrifying on a personal level—and he wields the Universal Hammer, a weapon capable of crushing anything it strikes.”

“How powerful is this weapon—the Universal Hammer?” Maverick inquired.

“Very. This is only what I’ve heard from different sources, but apparently the weapon even enhances Ronan’s physical strength to near demigod levels. Beyond that, it can fire concussive energy blasts strong enough to destroy large structures or decimate groups of enemies at a distance. It can absorb impacts, deflect energy attacks, and even generate force fields. Some say Ronan can use it to propel himself or hover in battle, giving him incredible mobility—like a certain prince famous across the galaxy. Basically, the hammer turns him into a one-man army.”

“But what makes him truly dangerous isn’t just him—or his weapon—it’s the forces under his command. He leads legions of elite Kree soldiers, fanatically loyal, highly trained, and completely ruthless, just like him. His fleet alone—composed of Kree Imperial Cruisers—could blanket your planet’s largest cities, each ship bristling with weapons capable of obliterating any of your so-called countries in minutes.”

“Every soldier, every ship under him exists to execute his will. He doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t negotiate. He conquers. He annihilates. And when he comes, resistance is simply futile.”

“Surely that’s a bit of an exaggeration, isn’t it?” Maria asked, a bead of sweat running down the side of her face as she glanced around.

“I wish it were… I truly do. But on the bright side, I’ve never heard of him mobilizing his entire fleet at once. And this mission, if I’m not mistaken, was him coming to take out just us... not for conquest. And even if he wanted to, he would have to think twice, given whose dominion this planet falls under,” Talos said after a moment’s thought.

“Stop talking in cryptic language, Talos,” Fury snapped, then turned to Maverick. “Fill me in, right now—but make it quick.”

“It’s not exactly a secret… Basically, Earth is under the protection of the All-Father Odin, the king of Asgard. We wizards have records of it, but even for us, it’s been so long since the All-Father descended that, like you muggles, it’s just a story now.”

He didn’t lie; during his travels around the world years ago, he had seen scriptures mentioning Asgard and especially Odin’s wife, a witch of supreme rank. But they were only ever referred to as fables or legends—just like Merlin himself. Maverick, however, was certain they weren’t.

A beat of silence passed through the dilapidated metal corridors as everyone absorbed the bombshell. Even Isabella looked at Maverick as if she had a thousand questions.

“We don’t have time to talk about all that right now. And besides, I’m not willing to bet on some alien god coming to save our asses.”

Having said that, Maverick was nevertheless certain that if Earth ever does face a real danger, then Asgard would not just sit idly by. But then again, Earth was not something any random Tom, Dick, or Harry could conquer either.

Heck, let alone Ronan — even if the entire Kree Empire was mobilized, Maverick was certain Earth could hold its ground without breaking a sweat. After all, he personally knew of two Supreme-rank powerhouses who called this planet home—overpowered beings who should be at least close to Odin’s level. Well, that last part was just his guess. Either way, he had no intention of telling Fury or the others that.

On the contrary, a plan was already forming in his mind—something which, if he could carry it out seamlessly, would make his efforts to dismantle the secrecy laws of the magical world much easier next year.

“First aliens, then wizards and witches… and now I’m learning that my little girl’s storybooks about gods were also based on true events?” Maria remarked, her voice a mixture of disbelief and exasperation. After all, in just a matter of days, her entire worldview had been shattered.

“I honestly don’t know what to believe, or what not to believe now.” Fury also sighed, but it didn’t stop him from planning ahead. “Let’s assume the worst first,” he said, glancing between Maverick and Talos. “Because don’t forget the Tesseract — the thing Danvers said was those blue-skinned freaks’ top priority for coming here. Who’s to say that Accuser son of a bitch won’t make it his priority too, and mobilize his entire army?”

Fury had a point, and if what Talos said was true, they needed to move fast. With that thought, Maverick’s expression hardened, and he turned to Fury. “You need to leave this spaceship and head back to Earth first.”

Maverick did not pause, and in the same breath, he opened a portal on the spot to where the Quinjet was waiting.

“Come on,” he said leading the way, and the rest, now wearing equally solemn expressions, followed after him.

“STOP!”

Four grunts were stationed here as well, keeping watch. It seemed Yonrog wasn’t taking any chances. Too bad for him, he hadn’t counted on a wild card like Maverick interfering.

ARRRRRHHHHH!

It was a familiar scene. This time, though, Maverick didn’t even bother yanking off their communicators, and just engulfed the Krees in hellfire on the spot, reducing them to nothingness.

And behind him, the group—who had at first been taken aback by what looked like an ambush—now stared at his back with a mix of awe and reverence. No matter how much they all hated the Kree, the way they had just… disappeared—just like that—still left them dry-mouthed, if only for a moment.

“Go. I will go and find Danvers, help her deal with Yon-Rogg, and follow back.”

Fury made no argument and walked ahead, because he was the most eager to return, to contact his boss as soon as possible. Talos, after casting Maverick one last glance, also followed inside with the group of Skrulls trailing behind.

Only Maria lingered at the rear for a moment, as before heading back, she wanted to ask about her friend.

“She’ll be fine. If it makes you feel any better, her newfound powers even allow her to survive in deep space and travel faster than most ships. Getting back to Earth won’t be a problem for her.”

Maverick’s assurance eased her worries, and with that, she too followed the rest, leaving only Isabella behind with him.

In the original story, Fury and his group had only barely escaped, with multiple Kree pods hot on their tail. But that obviously wouldn’t be the case this time.

That said, the total number of soldiers that Yon-Rogg had brought seems to be far greater than the numbers that was depicted in the movie.

What Maverick had dealt with was only a small fraction, and most were on Yon-Rogg’s side, trying to take down Danvers. It hadn’t even been ten minutes since Maverick and Isabella returned, yet from the looks of it, Danvers had already taken down most of the Kree troops. And now, only a few of their elite soldiers remained, ganging up on her alongside Yon-Rogg himself.

According to Marvel comics, even the average Kree are significantly stronger than baseline humans. They are the product of advanced evolution on a high-gravity world, making them a classic example of a “superior” alien race.

Skrulls are only slightly stronger than humans, whereas the Kree are several times stronger than a Skrull. However, they are still not as strong as Asgardians. In other words, the average Kree can be considered a super-soldier by human standards. Not to mention, the troops following Yon-Rogg were trained warriors, making them even more formidable than the average Kree.

(A/N: I’m not randomly gaslighting here—read the lore if you don’t believe me.)

It just goes to show that even if Danvers wasn’t yet fully in control of her powers, she was already operating on a completely different level.

After seeing off the Quinjet, Maverick and Isabella didn’t linger long and immediately turned their attention to the other side of the ship.

From his magical sense, Maverick saw that only a few remained: one was a female Kree, another had afro-blue hair and a strangely built frame even for an alien, and two more, equally odd-looking, along with Yon-Rogg himself, were left pinning Danvers in from all sides.

Well, not for long.

“Keep your focus…” he said, glancing briefly at Isabella with a fond, steady gaze before turning back toward the fight.

And then, his eyes snapped open, his pupils contracted, and from the depths of his soul, the might of his dominance manifested, pouring outward as a relentless force that unleashed itself across the entire Imperial cruiser.

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 250 - Tesseract: Please Try Again Later (IV)

“…just as I thought.”

There weren’t any new traits or talents added to his extraordinary list this time after fusing the replicated characteristic, Magical Energy. What he got instead was a boost to his magical reserves. And he could feel it, thrumming through every ounce of his being, even if at first glance it didn’t look like much.

No, on the contrary, it was a considerable increase—ten thousand, to be exact. The last time he had fused an extraordinary trait was half a year ago with the Sling Ring, and back then his magical energy sat at about 22,700. Then over the last six months, with nothing but his body’s natural cultivation, that number had risen by about 400, reaching exactly 23,096—until just a few minutes ago. And now it had leapt to 33,096.

When he thought about it, ten thousand units—if he had to claw his way there by himself—meant years of grinding practice saved. So really, even if it wasn’t enough to push him straight into Warlock rank, it was still a massive leap forward.

And if I’m not wrong…
He summoned the Tesseract into his hand again. It glowed in his palm, humming quietly, and he found himself grinning before he even realized it.

The same prompts were still there, both characteristics glowing like they were waiting for him. Normally, once he had already replicated a characteristic—say, his wand’s Excellent-Grade Spellcasting—the system would mark it or otherwise let him know he could no longer replicate it for a second time. Even if it came from another wand, as long as it was the same grade, he couldn’t copy it a second time.

But in this case, the Primal Energy trait was still flashing, showing it could be copied again. That meant as long as he had points, and was willing to spend them, he could keep replicating it. Ten thousand units of magical energy increase every year… that was enough to push him to Warlock in just two.

No, in just one year. By next year, if he wanted, he could do it. His system points were already nearing 8,000, and by then it would be well over 10,000.

So here it was—the headache of a choice: should he use the extraordinary characteristic point he would gain next year, spend his system points as well, and throw it all into leveling up?

To be honest, the system points were the trickiest part. Burning them felt… unwise. In his mind, using them to boost his talents and spell proficiency made far more sense than just pumping up his magical energy. Then again… if it meant evolving an entire rank, that didn’t sound too bad either.

Practically, the only logical—and probably the most efficient—option was to hoard extraordinary characteristic points: first for two years to advance to Warlock, and then for ten consecutive years to attempt replicating the Sub-Universal Law of Space from the Space Gem.

He let out a long sigh. It was a big decision—and one he couldn’t rush to make.

His gaze fell back onto the glowing cube in his hand once again, the Tesseract pulsing with otherworldly light and humming softly. “So… what am I going to do with you until then?” he murmured.

Should he let the cube follow its original trajectory? Or keep it, at least until he could replicate the Space Stone?

Again… decisions, decisions.

He rubbed his chin for a moment, then suddenly thought of an even better solution—one where the Cosmic Cube would stay with him until he could replicate the Space Stone, and at the same time…

---

Wush!

When Maverick returned, the first thing Isabella noticed was the obvious absence of the glowing blue cube. But while she was curious, time was too critical, as nearly half an hour had already passed since they had returned to Earth, and she was growing truly worried about Danvers and the others.

Even though it had only been a couple of days since meeting them, especially Danvers, her story had truly moved Isabella, stirring a deep sense of empathy for the space girl.

“No more hiding, right?” Isabella slipped her arm through his, watching inquiringly as he traced the familiar swirling motion. But just as her words settled, he paused halfway too, fingers hanging in the air before drifting to his chin.

“Ricky…?”

“Hmm… now that you mention it…” Maverick cast her a sideways glance and chuckled. Yes, now that he had what he wanted, and Danvers too was about to awaken her true potential, there was no longer any need to hide.

But first, the drip... cough cough cough...

And with that thought, his fingers danced through the air, first over Isabella, then over himself, ending in a crisp snap that sealed the gesture.

At his current level of proficiency in the talent, transfiguring small things like clothes or other non-living objects was easy, and the effects could last for hours, even an entire day. Moreover, if he continuously channeled his magic into them, the change would last even longer.

What he had just done was simply change their gear, after all, they had to look presentable, right?

Isabella’s casual clothes gave way to a sleek black dress, one shoulder bare, falling to her knees, with dark fabric draped from the opposite side. Buckled boots grounded her look, while a wide-brimmed hat angled over her face, giving her an aura of elegance and marking her as every bit a captivating witch.

Maverick was clad in a black jacket over a dark vest, black trousers, and polished shoes. A slim leather strap crossed his chest, a pocket watch chain glinting at his waist, and a long dark coat draped over his shoulders. The ensemble gave him a mysterious, enigmatic aura—precisely the effect he wanted, not dangerous.

The change took only a few seconds. “Now, we’re ready…” Maverick said, conjuring a mirror and nodding at their reflection.

“I’m not even going to ask how you came up with an outfit like this for me…” Isabella sighed, though the small smirk she tried to hide told him she liked what she saw.

The next moment, familiar orange sparks flared to life as Maverick traced a circle with his hand again, completing the passage to the Kree Imperial Space Station.

“Wait!”

Isabella pulled him back just as he was about to step forward, and this time he turned to her with a puzzled glance.

Under his raised brow, she twirled her wand playfully and tapped it against his tousled hair. At first, he thought she meant to fix it—until a black top hat with a single white band shimmered into place atop his head.

“Perfect,” she said, returning his earlier nod and smirk.

Okay… her little touch suited his new look perfectly, and besides, he couldn’t bring himself to argue with her anyway. With a chuckle and a shrug, he wove a thread of his own magic through her transfiguration, and together, hands locked, they stepped into the sparking portal.

---

Boom!

Crash!

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Crash! Boom! Crash!

The interdimensional portal opened in the middle of the imperial spaceship, and as soon as Maverick and Isabella stepped through, they were hit by the roar of constant explosions and the crash of metal debris raining from every corner. The situation had clearly escalated, but first, they needed to figure out what was happening and what was causing all the chaos.

Fortunately, mages are the best equipped for situations like this. Extending his magical senses to cover the entire spaceship, Maverick first focused on where the noise was most intense and saw Carol Danvers, her whole body glowing like a human disco ball on steroids, radiating raw energy as she tore through Kree grunts one after another. It looked like she had finally tapped into her full power, but with so many of them, she was still having a bit of trouble keeping up.

Still, it looked more like a hassle than a serious problem. She didn’t seem to be running out of energy anytime soon and just needed to get used to controlling it. His magical senses were practically screaming at him—her power was off the charts, radiating from her like nothing he had ever felt.

In other words, on Carol’s side, she didn’t seem to need any immediate help.

But on the other side, it was total carnage, with Fury, Maria, and Talos trading alien fire with a group of about ten Kree soldiers. The numbers were technically in the home team’s favor, but most of the Skrulls weren’t combat-trained, leaving it really just the three of Fury, Maria, and Talos holding the line behind a corner.

“Get your wand ready, hon…”

---

Time tracks back to about half an hour earlier…

After Yon-Rogg took control of the spaceship, the occupants were split into groups and taken to holding cells. Fury and Maria were put in one cell, while the group of Skrulls was placed in another nearby, all before the interrogations began. What they wanted was the Tesseract, which had somehow gone missing, and only once they had it could they get rid of their prisoners.

Meanwhile, Danvers’ unconscious body was taken to a cabin, where she was covered rather than restrained, using Kree nanotech to… let’s say, correct her mental state according to their needs. Even though she had gone rogue, she was still a walking, talking weapon of mass destruction—far too valuable for them to simply dispose of.

They wanted to brainwash her again, and the purpose of the nanotech was precisely that: for their supreme intelligence to attack her mentally, in other words, to erase the contradictory emotions she had for… well, anything besides the good of their galactic empire.

Unfortunately for them, they had still underestimated the dormant power Danvers had gained from the blast of Mar-Vell’s lightspeed engine, something fuelled by the Tesseract itself. And coupled with her strong resolve to break free from their control, the mental battle between her and the Kree Empire’s supreme intelligence eventually ended in Danvers’ victory.

The first thing she did after waking up was fry the restraining chip on her neck and take full control of her body. With her dormant powers now awake, she basically skipped the beginner stage and jumped straight to boss-level strength, even if she didn’t have perfect control yet. But it was still more than enough to take care of the few miscellaneous grunts guarding the cabin where she had been held captive.

After that, she didn’t waste any time and went straight to rescue Fury and the others, telling them to take the Quinjet back to Earth. Yon-Rogg and his troops were still somewhere on the ship, searching for the Tesseract, and she was determined to finish the job. For her, revenge wasn’t complete until she dealt with the man who had fooled her all these years.

Which brings the scene to the present: Danvers now battling Yon-Rogg and his entire troop, while Fury and his group being intercepted by another group of Kree soldiers on their way.

---

“Get down!” Fury shoved the green-skinned alien to the ground just as a blast of energy tore past, denting the metal wall behind them.

“Keep your head down and your trigger finger up!” He snapped at Talos without even looking, too busy tracking the ten freaks advancing toward them.

Explosions rocked the corridor, metal screaming under the relentless assault. On one side, ten blue-skinned aliens were closing in with triple the firepower, and on the other, Fury and his team found their corner had become a death trap.

Only three of them were actually shooting back—one because there was barely room to move, and two because the rest of the group were Skrulls, about as useful as wet cardboard with zero combat experience. Sparks flew and smoke curled as the three of them fired back at the advancing soldiers. Every shot bought a few precious seconds, but it was only delaying the inevitable.

“Damn it!” Fury ducked behind a bulkhead and spat a curse. “Where the hell is Danvers? Can’t she hear all this firepower?”

“I think she might be a bit… occupied,” Talos said, moving alongside Fury and Maria, firing in rhythm with them. “My ears are sharper than you humans. I can hear the exchange of fire clear across the ship.”

“She’ll come for us, I know it!” Maria also slammed her back against the wall as another blast streaked past, showering sparks over their shoulders. The aliens, they were getting closer and closer by the second. “We just need to hold on a little longer—just a little longer.”

“You have nowhere to hide, terrorists. Lay down your weapons and surrender, and we’ll consider giving you a painless death.”

One of the Kree yelled between bursts of fire toward their corner, but Fury didn’t even hesitate.

“FUCK… you, ugly blue-skinned bitch!”

“Human, this is not your war! Why do you interfere? You can’t seriously think your primitive planet is sending anyone to your aid all the way here—”

Continuous firepower was cutting through the metallic corridor, both words and blasts flying back and forth between the two sides. But then, all of a sudden, a slow, rhythmic set of footsteps began to echo over the chaos.

Under normal circumstances, it should have been impossible to hear over all the noise, but somehow it cut through everything, as if someone had deliberately turned down the volume of the world around them.

Tuk…

Tuk…

Tuk…

Tuk…

The steps echoed louder, drawing nearer, and before long, both sides had lowered their weapons, caught in the strange, gripping tension.

Every head had turned instinctively toward the source.

It was two humans, a man and a woman, dressed in strangely elegant clothing, moving with a casual, almost leisurely gait that made the chaos around them feel absurdly out of place.

“Stop!”

The Kree snapped to attention first. The nearest raised its weapon and shouted, and like dominoes, the rest followed, ready to fire.

But their warning seems to have fallen on deaf ears, until they saw the female raise a strange object and point it at them. And in this situation, whatever it was, it was most likely a weapon.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

All ten of them opened fire without any further warning, even ignoring the enemies they had been trading shots with just moments ago. Their instincts screamed that these two had to be dealt with first, no matter the cost.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

“An energy barrier?” one of them shouted over the firing, seeing what indeed appeared to be a shimmering wall of energy suddenly materialize between them.

“No… the female is gone!” another yelled, but it was already too late.

Petrificus Totalus!

The full-body binding hex shot from Isabella’s wand in rapid succession—boom! boom! boom! boom!—striking each of them in turn. The moment they raised their weapons, she had already apparated above them, channeling her magic mid-air to rain destruction down. She was a Garling, after all, and though barely past her teens, she was already a Magus-ranked witch, trained by one of the best the wizarding world had to offer.

The ten Kree soldiers had no idea what hit them. They were still conscious, but their bodies were frozen, as if an invisible force had seized them in place. Not even their lips could move to form a sound.

The entire exchange took only a few seconds, and then, with a woosh, Isabella landed gracefully in the center.

Maverick nodded approvingly to her, a small smile playing on his lips. He walked past the frozen aliens to the center of the chamber, stopping in front of Fury and his team, then he tipped his hat.

“Agent…”

“YOU SON OF A BITCH! WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?”

HP: Bloodraven Chapter 249 - Tesseract: Please Try Again Later (III)

[ Contact with objects of extraordinary nature detected ]

[ Item: Tesseract ]

[ Extraordinary Characteristic: Primal Energy ]

[ Grade: Excellent ]

[ Consume 1 Extraordinary Characteristic Point to replicate Excellent-Grade Characteristic, “Primal Energy?” ]

[ Item: Infinity Stone of Space ]

[ Extraordinary Characteristic: Primordial Law of Space — Universe Tier Authority ]

[ Grade: Mythical ]

[ Consume 10 Extraordinary Characteristic Points to replicate Mythical-Grade Characteristic, “Primordial Law of Space — Universe Tier Authority?” ]

“…”

“…”

Cough.

Brother system… I think there’s a bug in your prompt…

“…”

“…”

The Tesseract is one of the Marvel Universe’s single most powerful objects, said to contain near-infinite energy, and, on top of that, a sort of container that also houses one of the Infinity Stones, the Space Stone. These stones, or gems, are essentially the laws that bind the very cosmos, each tied to a fundamental aspect of the universe—space, time, reality, mind, soul, and power—powers even gods covet.

To the casual observer, the Tesseract looks like a simple glowing blue cube—a harmless source of energy. But to those who know how to wield it, it is a relic of unimaginable power, capable of shaping events, even on a universal scale. Absolutely not something to be underestimated.

Maverick had had his target on this seemingly harmless—but actually terrifying—little thing for a long time now, ever since his system had awakened and he understood its cheat-like abilities. After all, what transmigrator to the Marvel Universe wouldn’t covet the Infinity Stones?

Especially him, with a cheat so convenient. But thinking about it is one thing, and getting his hands on it is another. Even for him, who had more or less foreknowledge of the Marvel Universe and when and where the Infinity Stones would make their appearances, he had always kept in mind that it might not be easy.

This was his first encounter with one, and, surprisingly, it turned out to be far less complicated than he expected. No cosmic gods were suddenly popping out of wormholes to warn him to leave it alone, not even the bald lady—who, honestly, he had fully expected to appear from some dimensional corner, wagging a finger at him. Anyway, he now had it in his hands without causing much of a ruckus and, dare say, probably—maybe—without creating any branches in the timeline.

His system—his cheat—allowed him to replicate extraordinary characteristics, or basically copy powers, abilities, or the unique traits of objects, once every year. Or at least, that’s what he had thought… until now. In the past, it had always taken one Extraordinary Point to replicate a single trait of an extraordinary object, but the prompts flashing before his eyes made it clear that was no longer the case. Then again, until this moment, he hadn’t yet come across any object—magical, cosmic, or technological—that qualified as mythical grade.

Heck, he was still not sure how the system even determined an object’s grade. A wand, for instance—something so common in the wizarding world—could be rated as excellent by the system, while now the Tesseract—the so-called source of infinite energy—was also showing as merely excellent. How could one even compare a wand to the Tesseract of all things? It was infuriating not understanding it, and, to be honest, he had long since given up trying to figure out how the system ranked items.

That said, his cheat was by no means simple, and he really had no complaints about its abilities. The only problem was that it couldn’t even provide a basic answer—not a simple yes or no—beyond the standard prompts it spat out. Basically, his system was OP AF, but at the same time, it was also completely mentally retarded.

Now, to the matter at hand: the reason he was word-struck, confused, and annoyed—or just simply pissed off—was precisely this. Apparently, mythical-grade characteristics require ten damn points to replicate. He had always assumed it would take just one, regardless of the grade. After all, there hadn’t been any difference between basic grade and excellent grade, so it should be the same for the grade above them, right? Apparently not.

On the other hand, having to wait a single decade, stacking points to replicate a fundamental law of the universe—was that really such a big deal? Of course not. Having the power of even a single Infinity Stone means one has complete dominion over the primordial law it represents. Even if it is within a single universe, you are basically mastering one of its fundamentals. Deep down, Maverick was well aware of this, but it’s just—having experienced the system’s omnipotence until now—he was just… frustrated.

The Space Stone was in his grasp; he had it. And yet, the system says, try again later.

“Ricky…”

“RICKY!”

Isabella kept calling his name, watching him lost in thought for a while now.

“I can hear you, honey…” 

He wasn’t deaf, and although his focus was on the system, he was fully aware of his surroundings—just, again, word-struck.

“What’s the matter then? You’ve been staring at this glowing cube for over a minute now…”

“I know… I know…” he sighed. He wouldn’t be telling anyone about the system, even if it was his fiancée. “I’m just trying to figure out what this is, honey. Give me a sec more…”

Isabella crossed her arms, puffed her cheeks, but nodded nonetheless, and Maverick focused back on the prompts.

Well, on the bright side, my lifespan isn’t short, he thought. Ten points, ten years—doesn’t sound like much. Besides, even if he couldn’t replicate the Space Gem, he still wanted to check out the other characteristic: Primal Energy. The heck does Primal Energy even mean?

[ Consume 1 Extraordinary Characteristic Point to replicate Excellent-Grade Characteristic, “Primal Energy?” ]

Whatever. Again, if only this mentally retarded system had a little ChatGPT or something installed in its interface, he could ask. Unfortunately, he could only learn about the characteristics, see the system notes, only after replicating—meaning after consuming Extraordinary Characteristic Points.

Anyways, it was still excellent grade, and it was the bloody Tesseract. Surely it can’t be bad. Besides, primal, it sounds pretty awesome.

[ YES ]

Just as he expected, he saw next moment the system’s way of informing him it had something else in mind, much like what had happened when he replicated the Extraordinary Characteristic of Scamander's suitcase.


[ Unable to replicate integratable Extraordinary Characteristic! ]


[ Converting Extraordinary Characteristic to an integratable state. ]


[ Conversion complete. ]


[ New Extraordinary Characteristic: Magical Energy ]


[ Replicating Extraordinary Characteristic. ]


[ Extraordinary Characteristic: Excellent-Grade, Magical Energy - (unfused) ]

“…”

“…”

The… heck is this?

Do I look like I lack magical energy… wait!

He suddenly thought of something and immediately dismissed the prompts in his head and turned to Isabella.

“Honey, we’re making a quick stop back to Earth, and I need to be alone for a while…”

Isabella was taken aback by his sudden decision, but seeing his solemn expression, she nodded quietly, without protest. One of the things Maverick liked most about her was that she didn’t pry, only asking questions when he chose to share details in situations like this. And this wasn’t his first time bailing from her side all of a sudden, and she had always shown an understanding attitude to his actions.

“Thank you,” he said, and right there on the spot, opened a portal back to Earth—specifically to Isabella’s father’s private island in Alaska.

“Just… stay there for a bit, okay? Hopefully I won’t be long. A couple of minutes, maybe, but if it’s taking too long, you can apparate back home until I find you.”

“I know… I know,” Isabella said, sighing and waving her hand. “I’ll stay here for a while. But don’t forget that Danvers and Fury are still captured by those aliens.”

“Don’t worry, I haven’t,” Maverick replied, giving her a thumbs-up before apparating, his vision changing before he reappeared somewhere else, far, far from there—in Antarctica.

Isabella was right—Fury and his group were still captured, held captive by the Kree. Even though Maverick was confident things would turn out okay, he still didn’t want to leave it all to chance. Just before portaling back to Earth, he had sensed Danvers’ presence spiking, growing stronger. That meant she was likely finishing her confrontation with the Supreme Intelligence in her mind, awakening her true potential as the future Ms. Marvel.

Right. Let’s get this over with quickly.

[ Extraordinary Characteristic: Excellent-Grade, Magical Energy – (unfused) ]

Fuse!

“…”

It was… a strange feeling. Like the satisfaction of drinking a cold, refreshing cup of water after being parched for days. But he wasn’t thirsty, per se—it was just… invigorating. His whole body felt alive, flushed with energy, yet strangely comfortable at the same time.

And the sensation came and went quickly, leaving nothing behind except that fleeting feeling. Anticlimactic, for lack of a better word—so much so that by the end, he wasn’t even sure anything really special had happened at first.

No… He shook his head. I feel… different. Stronger? No, that’s not it as well—strength isn’t the right word. It’s more like the rush of power after advancing a rank.

“Could it be?” His eyes widened for a moment before he quickly willed the status panel to appear before him.

[ Name: Maverick Caesar ]

[ Class: Wizard ]

[ Rank: Arch-Magus ]

[ Magical Energy: 33,096+ ]

[ Points: 7,742 ]

[ Extraordinary Characteristic Points: 0 ]

[ Extraordinary Characteristics: ]
[ Excellent grade: Spellcasting, Independent Expanded Dimension, Flight, Vitality, True Concealment, Cosmic Voidgate Conduit ]

[ Talents: ]
[ Magical Energy Manipulation (Master +) ]
[ Magical Sense (Master +) ]
[ Spacial Rift (Advanced +) ]
[ Dominant Spirit (Advanced +) ]
[ Nature Energy Manipulation (Advanced +) ]
[ Transfiguration (Advanced +) ]
[ Alchemy (Advanced +) ]
[ Potions (Intermediate +) ]
[ Eldritch Meditation (Advanced +) ]

[ Spells: ]
[ Aquired Master Proficiency: ]
[ Fiendfyre + | Apparition + | Illusio Lunam Lectorem + ]

[ Aquired Advanced Proficiency: ]
[ Mirror Dimension + | Sling Ring Portal + | Astral Projection + | Eldritch Whips + | Crimson Bands + | Flames of the Faltine + | Bolts of Balthakk + | Shield of the Vishanti + | Crimson Bands of Cyttorak + | Flipendo + | Bombarda + | Bombarda Maxima + | Expelliarmus + | Sanare Vipra (Advanced healing) + | Protego + | Finite Incantatem + | Petrificus Totalus + | Stupefy + | PatronusCharm + | Episkey (Healing) + | Reparo + | Revelio + | Disillusionment + | Wingardium Leviosa + | Occlumency + | Legilimency + | Mirror World spell + | Confundus + ... ]

“Sure enough… just as I thought.”