{Author's Note:
Hey, amazing readers! I've got a big question for you: Should I write Clark's adventures in the Marvel Universe and the Harry Potter world side by side, weaving both stories together? Or should I focus on his journey in the Harry Potter world and give a short recap of what happened in the MCU when he returns? Let me know your thoughts on Patreon.
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Darkness swallowed Clark Kent, an endless void where no light, no sound, no weight existed. His consciousness flickered, fragile as a candle in a storm, adrift in an abyss that stretched beyond comprehension. No body, no breath, just a thread of awareness, teetering on the edge of nothingness. It was like a meditative trance, the kind whispered about in village tales—deep, disorienting, infinite.
Panic clawed at him first. Was he dead? Had the bullet that tore through his chest ended him? Had Kara's scream—his last memory—been her farewell? His mind raced, grasping for answers. The terrorist attack flashed back: the fire in his eyes as heat vision erupted, the shock of pain, the pavement rushing up. Then, her voice, raw and desperate, calling his name.
He forced himself to focus, his thoughts sharpening in the weightless dark. This wasn't death. It was something else—something deeper, stranger. A state beyond the physical, where his soul, not his body, held sway. The realization steadied him, like finding solid ground in a dream.
Time didn't exist here, yet Clark's mind churned, unraveling the questions that had haunted him for years. His Kryptonian powers should've awakened long ago. Kara, under the same yellow sun, had soared, burned, and shattered steel while he'd stayed earthbound, his strength barely above a human's. Why? What held him back?
A whisper came, soft but piercing, like a guru's voice in the silence. The Will of the World. A cosmic force, invisible but relentless, guarding the balance of this universe. It saw him—his potential, his ambition—as a threat, a spark that could ignite chaos. So, it had suppressed him, locked his powers away, kept him weak to protect its fragile order.
But Kara? She'd awakened, her strength unchained. Why not him? The answer hit like a thunderclap. It wasn't just his Kryptonian blood. Something else coursed through him, a power beyond this reality: multiversal potential. His very existence sent ripples across dimensions, a disruption the Will couldn't tolerate. It hadn't just held him back—it had tried to erase him, to snuff him out before he could rise.
Clark's soul pulsed with cold fury, a silent snarl in the void. The terrorist attack—had it been chance, or had the Will orchestrated it, nudging fate to crush him? His smirk, though bodiless, sharpened. They thought they could control him—fate, the universe, some cosmic puppeteer. They were wrong.
The void stirred, a ripple of energy waking within him. It wasn't Kryptonian—stronger, older, a force that hummed with the weight of countless realities. Multiversal travel. His body lay in the MCU, broken but alive, tethered to a hospital bed. But his soul? It was free, unbound, able to slip through the cracks of existence, to wander worlds beyond.
Limits existed, though. Time flowed unevenly across universes—ten years in another could pass as six months in the MCU. Whatever his soul experienced—pain, growth, power—would mark his physical body. Every scar, every strength, would return with him. It was a gamble, but also a gift. A way to grow, to train, to become unstoppable without the Will's chains holding him back.
Clark's resolve hardened, his awareness blazing in the dark. This was his chance to escape suppression, to forge himself into something no force could contain. The void wasn't his prison—it was his gateway.
A presence loomed, vast and ancient, stirring the abyss. Ahead, a white gate materialized, towering beyond sight, its edges shimmering like a temple's sacred flame. Its glow was blinding yet warm, radiating power, destiny, a call that tugged at his core. Clark didn't resist. He had no body to move, but his will surged forward, drawn to the gate like a moth to light.
The closer he came, the stronger the pull, a force beyond gravity, beyond reason. His soul touched the gate, and the void shattered. Light engulfed him, a torrent of energy that burned and soothed, pulling him through. He was falling—no, soaring—into the unknown, his consciousness spiraling toward a new world.
This was it. His first true adventure beyond the MCU. A chance to grow, to fight, to become the force he was meant to be. As the gate's light swallowed him, Clark's smirk lingered, defiant and alive. Whatever lay ahead, he'd conquer it. The Will of the World, the MCU, the multiverse itself—they'd learn his name.