The current situation at Stark Industries was far from ideal.
With weapons no longer in urgent demand, the world had entered a rare period of relative stability. Aside from a certain someone causing chaos across an island nation, global tensions remained subdued.
Even Grindelwald's so-called revolution in Europe was still confined to rhetoric and ideological propaganda.
To the entrenched capital empires, the old financial dynasties that truly shaped the world, Grindelwald was little more than a group of idealistic dreamers.
The empire had shown no overt interest in him, and that alone was enough for those elites to dismiss his movement as harmless.
They had no idea how dangerous he truly was.
For seven years, Grindelwald had been developing in absolute secrecy, like bamboo shoots growing unseen beneath the soil.
Once they pierced the surface, their growth would be explosive, towering structures rising in a matter of moments.
Unfortunately, Stark Industries had become collateral damage in a much larger struggle.
The pressure placed on the High Claw Group inevitably spilled over. After all, Stark Industries was simply too tempting a target.
Its sudden rise had seized over sixty percent of new weapons quota, and with Howard Stark's unparalleled black-technology research capabilities, that percentage continued to climb.
To those watching from the shadows, Stark Industries was an unprecedented prize.
And so they came.
Capital manipulation, Media attacks.
Government interference, social movements.
Even underground and occult forces.
Wave after wave crashed toward Stark Industries, each hoping to tear away a piece of flesh.
Fortunately, before Garfield departed, Howard had secured two personal mage guards from Kamar-Taj.
On Earth, most dark forces understood exactly what that meant.
The Ancient One, holder of the Book of the Vishanti, was not an existence to be trifled with.
Those who didn't understand were usually ignorant minor factions.
They followed the same pattern as the fools who had previously tested the High Claw Group… sending expendable underlings, watching them fail, escalating step by step, until a so-called "boss" emerged.
And behind that boss?
A hidden mastermind.
The moment those self-proclaimed powerhouses were personally crushed by the Ancient One, they finally understood.
The reason the ancient dark forces had not rushed to devour Stark Industries was not because they lacked desire.
It was because their teeth were not strong enough.
Those who realized this fled immediately, grateful they had survived long enough to learn the lesson. Those who didn't… died before they could regret it.
Of course, there were still existences that even the Ancient One found troublesome.
For example…
Mephisto, the Lord of Hell.
He had no direct connection to Garfield, yet he was eager to claim a share of such an enormous prize.
Garfield's eyes narrowed.
"So," He said coldly, "Mephisto is trying to steal my things?"
Baima nodded. "That's right. That evil demon has appeared several times."
A terrifying killing intent surged from Garfield.
"Shameless filth." He growled. "I let him benefit from my presence once and treated him well. Just wait."
"One day, I'll personally take up my blade, lead my army, and cleanse his hell from top to bottom."
Nearby, Lilith instinctively shrank back.
Garfield was a notorious beast across the universe. The murderous aura he released was unbearable even for high-ranking devils.
Though Lilith held a noble lineage, she was still in her infancy.
Against Garfield, she stood no chance at all.
Garfield exhaled, suppressing his killing intent.
"Baima." He said calmly, "I'm going to check on Howard. I'll bring him something worthwhile."
"Yes." Baima replied respectfully.
Garfield locked onto Howard Stark's location, extended his claws, and tore open a portal in space itself.
✦••┈┈••✦••┈┈••✦
Garfield emerged inside Howard Stark's private laboratory.
At the workbench, Howard was completely absorbed, welding torch in hand, eyes narrowed as he carefully fused delicate components together. Sparks danced through the air.
Standing nearby was a mage from Kamar-Taj.
The moment he sensed Garfield's presence, the mage straightened and bowed deeply.
"Master Garfield, greetings."
Garfield glanced at him, searching his memory for the man's name, only to realize he couldn't recall it at all.
After a brief pause, he nodded politely.
"Greetings." Garfield said. "Thank you for your hard work."
"It's my pleasure."
After exchanging courtesies, Garfield asked the mage to rest for the moment, he wanted to speak with Howard privately.
Howard, who had already overheard Garfield's conversation with Master Angie, immediately set aside his work. Still in his teenage years, his excitement was impossible to hide.
He strode forward and wrapped his arms around Garfield in a spontaneous hug.
"Garfield, you're back!" Howard said enthusiastically.
"You have no idea how much I missed you. These past few years have been incredible."
Garfield rolled his eyes. "Incredible? Let me guess, 'incredible' means a parade of cats and dogs trying to cause trouble while I was gone."
"This is nothing my master couldn't manage."
Howard nodded vigorously. "The Supreme Sorcerer is terrifyingly powerful. Those dark creatures who thought they were invincible were suppressed in minutes."
"That's nothing. Do you know what's even more impressive?" Garfield lifted his chin, pride unmistakable.
Howard blinked. "What?"
"The gods of Olympus."
Howard's eyes widened. "You mean… them?"
"My master." Garfield continued calmly, "Went to Mount Olympus and chased them all the way to Zeus's throne. Mount Olympus was flooded in gold and red."
"In the end, Zeus had no choice but to flee with the remaining Olympian gods."
Howard stared at him. "Is this real or fake?"
Garfield puffed out his chest. "Of course it's real."
"If you don't believe me, investigate it yourself. And it wasn't only Olympus, none of the ancient pantheons were spared."
"Otherwise, why do you think there have been no records of gods descending in the past few centuries?"
Howard paused, thinking carefully through modern historical records.
"…That actually checks out," he admitted. "So even the Norse gods were involved?"
"That's different." Garfield shook his head. He leaned closer and lowered his voice.
"Odin is a ruthless old monster who once swept across half the universe. My master and Odin are extremely close. Don't speculate about that lightly."
Howard stiffened. "Then Asgard~"
"Is currently one of Earth's guardians," Garfield finished.
"Wait." Howard looked completely lost.
Garfield raised a paw and conjured glowing runes in midair. A vast, luminous diagram unfolded… the World Tree, its branches stretching endlessly, nine realms hanging like stars.
"Look closely." Garfield said. "This is Yggdrasil, the World Tree. After the universe was born, the World Tree took form. The Asgardian gods were born upon it."
He gestured toward one of the realms. "They live in Asgard, a magical domain suspended in space."
"The average Asgardian lives at least five thousand years. As for the royal Odinson bloodline, their lifespan is even longer. They specialize in light-based magic and belong to the faction of light."
Howard listened intently.
"But." Garfield continued, "From the very beginning, light and darkness have coexisted."
"With Asgard's rise came their ancient enemy, the Dark Elves, born during the universe's Dark Age." His expression turned disdainful.
"The final leader of the Dark Elves, Malekith, is a complete idiot. He obtained the Reality Stone and tried to force the Nine Realms back into the Dark Age by causing them to overlap through a universal convergence."
Howard couldn't help interrupting. "That sounds stupid. What's so great about the Dark Age?"
Garfield nodded approvingly. "Darkness is nothing but endless darkness. You can't even see the person standing next to you. Your assessment is accurate."
He waved his paw dismissively. "And then came the war."
Before Garfield could continue…
Reality twirled.
A wretched, hunched old figure manifested directly in front of him, reeking of decay and malice.
Mephisto.
꧁𓊈𒆜༺⚜༻𒆜𓊉꧂
PhantomDream