I press my palm against the cold tattoo on the back of my right hand, letting a thin stream of dark-blue magic pulse outward. The air in front of me splits open with a soft crack, forming a swirling oval of shimmering symbols — Asgardian runes, Kryptonian glyphs, eldritch circles from the Dark Dimension, and even the sharp neon lines of anime-styled magic systems.
A portal only I can open.A doorway that obeys no universe.
I step through.
Instantly the biting winter is replaced by warmth, stillness, and an almost holy quiet. Towering shelves stretch upward beyond sight, vanishing into a ceiling that… may not actually exist. Books float freely in the air, spinning lazily. Pages whisper without wind. A few tomes — dangerous ones — are locked in glowing sanctums made of pure spellwork.
I exhale slowly.Every time I enter, it hits me again.The library isn't just large — it's infinite.
Every magical system. Every cosmic power. Every alchemical philosophy. Every cursed artifact ever forged in fiction, myth, or reality.All gathered here like obedient children waiting for their mother's attention.
"I could live a thousand lifetimes and still barely scratch the surface…" I murmur to myself, brushing my fingers along the spine of a book that hums with eldritch energy.
But I don't need all of it. Not yet.Right now I need the essentials — magic that will keep me alive, hidden, powerful, and prepared.
I walk deeper, heels clicking softly on polished marble that never gathers dust. The shelves shift as I move, rearranging themselves so the books I need drift toward me like loyal familiars.
A crimson leather tome floats into my hand."Marvel: The Book of Sorcerous Foundations," I read aloud. Containing early training spells used by the Ancient One. Perfect for defensive magic and dimensional manipulation.
A second book flickers into existence beside me — ancient, wrapped in black serpent skin:"DC: Shadowcraft of the Endless."A manual on shaping pure darkness into constructs, illusions, or weapons. The kind of thing that would make Trigon tilt his head in approval.
Then a third — lightweight, glowing faintly blue:"Alchemy of the Fullmetal State."With complete transmutation circles, including the forbidden ones.
I grin.This library spoils me.
Still floating near the ceiling are books I'll eventually need — divine artifacts from mythology, grimoires capable of rewriting reality, manuals on cloning, enchanting, potion creation, and even constructing objects like the Tesseract, the Mother Boxes, or the Philosopher's Stone.
But one step at a time.I select a table made of shimmering starlight and begin stacking my chosen books.
"Where am I?" I whisper again, remembering the snow, the cold, the unfamiliar sky.
If I'm going to understand what version of Earth I've landed on — MCU? DC? anime? an original world? a fusion? — I need tools.
So I start pulling more books:
A universal locator spell from Doctor Strange's forbidden archives.
A planetary divination ritual from DC's Atlantean magic.
A ki-sensing technique from Dragon Ball that detects life signatures.
A spell for interpreting timelines from the Fate series.
A basic scrying charm from Harry Potter, far improved by the others.
By the time I'm done, I have a stack of knowledge tall enough to crush a grown man.
I roll my shoulders, crack my neck, and whisper:"Alright. Let's get to work."
Because the sooner I understand this world, the sooner I can begin shaping it.