In Sokovia, the night was alive with wonder. Citizens stepped from their homes, faces tilted skyward, captivated by a shimmering blue aurora. Its vibrant hues danced across the cloudless expanse, a spectacle of nature's magic that left onlookers breathless.
Then, the aurora shifted. Its colors coiled, narrowing into a jagged, serpentine crack. A thunderous rumble shattered the silence, reverberating through the sky. The crack widened, tearing open a rift. From it, a blue meteor streaked downward, vanishing beyond the horizon.
As quickly as it appeared, the rift sealed, the sky returning to its starry calm. The people below buzzed with awe and speculation, their voices a chorus of wonder and confusion.
In a quiet Sokovian cemetery, an elderly couple trudged away, their hearts heavy with grief. They'd just buried their twin children, lost to a car accident. Their steps faltered as a blue light crashed nearby, illuminating the graves. Two figures lay in the glow—a young man with silver hair, a young woman with red locks.
The couple rushed forward, gasping. The strangers bore an uncanny resemblance to their lost children. Tears streaming, they knelt, whispering prayers of thanks, convinced a miracle had returned their son and daughter.
The young pair stirred, their eyes clouded with confusion. Their memories were gone, their pasts a void. An aching absence gnawed at them, as if a vital part of their being had been severed. They carried nothing but a ring on the woman's finger, its blue gem swirling with black, thread-like currents. When she touched it, a cool, soothing energy pulsed through her. It felt like her lifeline, more precious than life itself.
The couple ushered them home, naming them Pietro and Wanda Maximoff, their "children" reborn, memory lost to the accident. The pair nodded, uncertain but grateful, clinging to the ring and each other.
Across the globe, in a SHIELD underground base, chaos erupted. The Tesseract, secured within a high-tech cradle, flared with blinding blue light. Gamma rays surged, flooding the facility. Alarms blared as Nick Fury and Maria Hill mobilized, bracing for a catastrophic breach.
But the surge faded as swiftly as it began. The Tesseract dimmed, its surface inert once more. Fury's eye narrowed, Hill's jaw tightened. They exchanged a glance, questions unspoken. Something had stirred the Cosmic Cube—and it wasn't random.
In New York, Sebastian stood atop a rooftop, oblivious to the cosmic tremors in Sokovia and SHIELD. A faint chill pulsed from the Ring of Frost on his left hand, then vanished. He inspected it, sensing no fault, and dismissed the anomaly with a shrug.
Unaware of the event transpired just now.
Kaecilius had departed, eager to return to the mortal world and lay the groundwork for Sebastian's vision. Alone now, Sebastian gazed at the city's skyline, thoughts swirling.
Since arriving in this world, he'd been adrift, driven only by the need to grow stronger against future threats. But now, clarity had emerged. He'd pursue the ultimate source of magic, forging a path to its authority. And with Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as his banner, he'd build a legacy—a school to rival Kamar-Taj, rooted in the magic of his past life.
That past life, once a fleeting memory, now felt like a second home. The world where his journey began was his true origin, but the wizarding world of Hogwarts lingered in his soul, a place of belonging he yearned to recreate.
He exhaled, resolve hardening. A golden portal flared open, and he stepped through to Kamar-Taj.
The Ancient One awaited him in a tranquil pavilion, her presence serene yet heavy with unseen burdens. Sebastian sat across from her, his voice steady. "Ancient One, I'm here for Andromeda Attumasen's promised compensation."
She produced three shark teeth, their surfaces etched with faint runes, and placed them before him. "Each contains an Atlantean spell, equal to Blood Shark Bite. These are rare, even in Atlantis."
Sebastian took the teeth, his senses brushing against their magic. He discerned their names: Sword of Poseidon, a piercing strike; Wrath of the Giant Whale, a crushing force; and Voice of the Siren, an enchanting call. The last, an auxiliary spell, intrigued him most.
He stored the teeth in his cloak, meeting the Ancient One's gaze. "Kaecilius is with me now. You can rest easy."
Her smile was warm, genuine. "That's the best outcome for him. I'm deeply grateful, Sebastian, for taking him under your wing."
"You've done much for me," he replied. "If you ever need aid, just ask."
The Ancient One's eyes softened, catching a flicker of resolve in his gaze. She hesitated, as if to speak, then nodded. "If I need you, I'll call. Thank you."
"Good. I'll take my leave, then."
"Farewell, Mage Shaw."
"Farewell, Ancient One."
Sebastian opened a portal and stepped through, leaving Kamar-Taj behind. The Ancient One remained in the pavilion, lifting her teacup. Behind its rim, a quiet smile curved her lips, touched with hope.
-------------------
Stark Pharmaceuticals had ignited the world. After a dazzling press conference, the company—born from Stark Industries' weapons empire—officially entered the pharmaceutical arena. The announcement alone drew eyes, but the reveal of three groundbreaking drugs set the industry ablaze. Their near-miraculous effects stunned the audience, and when Tony Stark flashed certified proof of their efficacy, the crowd erupted. Media frenzy followed.
Overnight, Stark Pharmaceuticals became a household name. Speculation swirled about the enigmatic drug researcher, the majority shareholder whose identity remained cloaked. Theories multiplied, each wilder than the last.
In a modest New York apartment, Sebastian rose early, the morning news flickering on the TV. He sat at the breakfast table with his mother, Alisha, a warm plate of eggs and toast between them. As the anchor raved about Stark's triumph, Sebastian glanced at her. "Mom, that mysterious researcher they're talking about? It's me."
Alisha's fork froze mid-air. She blinked, then set it down with a soft clink. "Well, I've stopped being surprised by you, Sebastian." A wry smile crept across her face. "But if you're the biggest shareholder, does that mean I can stop saving for your college fund?"
He chuckled. "No need for that anymore."
Her eyes widened, a spark of delight breaking through her usual restraint. "Really? You're not pulling my leg?"
"Really," he assured, his smile steady.
Alisha's face lit up, her shoulders relaxing. "That's… wonderful. We could use that money for other things—maybe spruce up our lives a bit."
Sebastian shook his head, amused. "Mom, you're misunderstanding my wealth. It's not just enough for college. We could move to a mansion, buy the restaurant you work at, and still have plenty left. Money's not an issue anymore."
Alisha's expression sobered, her gaze firm. "Sebastian, that's your money, not mine. You don't need my help for college—that's a gift to me. I'll save what I can to live comfortably. But your earnings? They're yours. I won't touch them while I can still provide for myself. Parents don't claim their children's wealth."
"But you've sacrificed so much for me," he protested, voice soft.
She reached across the table, her hand warm against his cheek. "Because you're my son. Everything I've done—every penny, every late shift—was out of love, not a ledger to be balanced. Raising you wasn't a transaction, expecting repayment. When you're ready to soar, I let go. I don't need you to carry me, just to fly high." Her smile turned wistful. "Though, when I'm old and creaky, I hope you'll check in. I know you will, because you love me too."
Sebastian exhaled, her words sinking deep. "I understand, Mom."
"Good." Alisha stood, grabbing her purse. "I'm off to work. Might be late—I'm treating myself to some shopping. It's been ages since I splurged."
"If you need a hand carrying bags, call me. I'm happy to help the dazzling Ms. Shaw."
She laughed, a rare lightness in her voice. "If I do, you'll hear from me. See you tonight, dear."
As the door clicked shut, Sebastian leaned back, a quiet gratitude settling in. Alisha's love—steady, selfless—was a rare constant, grounding him in this life as it had in his past.
His phone buzzed, Tony's smirking selfie flashing on the screen. Sebastian sighed—Tony always managed to hack the contact photo back to his grinning face. He answered, voice dry. "Tony, I saw the news."
"There's more they haven't covered," Tony replied, his tone brimming with smug satisfaction.
"Like what?"
"The military's already placed a massive order for all three potion-based drugs. They're calling them game-changers. Who'd have thought Stark Industries would be back in bed with the Pentagon after I swore off weapons?"
Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "You're handling the company's operations. I'm just the R&D guy. But there's more to this call, isn't there?"
Tony's voice turned serious. "The military reps got chatty. They're obsessed with the drugs' effects and asked if we'd research a super soldier serum. Offered classified data and materials to sweeten the deal."
"Super soldier serum?" Sebastian's mind flashed to Captain America and the Hulk. "Like Erskine's formula? Or Banner's?"
"Exactly."
"What's your take, Tony?"
"I say we steer clear. That serum's too close to weaponizing people. I'm done playing the military's game."
"Fair enough," Sebastian said. "But passing on their offer doesn't mean we can't research it ourselves. I've got… resources. Private studies could yield something big."
Tony's curiosity crackled through the line, but Sebastian ended the call. He sat at his desk, thoughts churning. Rising, he approached his closet, wand materializing in his hand. A light tap on the inner panel triggered a ripple, the space twisting open to reveal a vast chamber—his secret laboratory, crafted with a Traceless Extension Charm.
Descending the stairs, he entered a chilled room, its air crisp at zero degrees. Shelves lined the walls, stacked with blood bags—samples he'd collected over time. Their potential hummed in his mind. It was time to put them to use.