Within the confines of the elevated containment chamber, Shazam lay sprawled across the narrow bed provided for him. The space hummed softly with restrained energy—wards, sensors, and technology layered so densely that even breathing felt monitored. He stared up at the ceiling, though his eyes weren't really seeing it.
His thoughts were far away, lost in another world entirely.
Home.
Freddy's face surfaced in his mind, he was his best friend, followed by the rest of his adoptive family.
The realization of never seeing them again dawned on him, tightening something in his chest. He swallowed and forced the feeling down, then his thoughts shifted to the Justice League.
Had Barry actually pulled it off? Had the Flash managed to warn them in time? Was his world still standing because of that desperate, reckless sprint through time?
The questions wouldn't stop.
Or…
A chilling thought crept in, unwelcome and frightful. Good thing he had the courage of Achilles.
'What if I wouldn't even be there right now if I hadn't crossed into this universe?'
His brow furrowed. His breathing slowed.
'If Barry went back and succeeded… then does that mean there's still a version of me back there?
'And if that's true—what does that make me?'
His hands came up, gripping the sides of his head as the thought spiral tightened.
'Am I currently from a dead timeline, one that no longer exists?
'Shouldn't I have been erased along with it?'
The logic tangled in on itself. Maybe it was because he existed outside his universe's temporal flow now. Or maybe crossing dimensions—moving through the same space Barry used—granted some kind of protection. A temporal anchor. Something that lets speedsters survive paradoxes and fractured timelines.
But then again, it was sure to catch up to them somehow.
If that's the case, then what kind of side effects was he going to experience?
He exhaled sharply and dropped his hands, squeezing his eyes shut as a dull ache throbbed behind them.
For all the divine power coursing through him, for all the wisdom of Solomon he possessee—this was still territory he didn't fully grasp. Time travel and interdimensional displacement weren't riddles you solved just by thinking harder.
'Not unless I actively dig into it,' he conceded grimly.
'Then maybe… maybe I'll understand.'
A voice disrupted the silence which he was drowning in.
"Hey there, Sparkles."
Shazam flinched, shoulders tensing as the familiar, cocky and smug tone dragged him out of his thoughts.
Shazam turned his head toward the sound of approaching footsteps. The men were still in full gear, their presence filling the space outside the containment zone even before they spoke.
"Oh—hey there, Tin Man."
The jab landed squarely on Tony Stark.
Tony squinted at him for a brief second, gears visibly turning behind his eyes.
Then, in one fluid cascade of expressions, both eyebrows lifted in near-instant appraisal. He tilted his head, gave a small shrug, and punctuated it with a subtle roll of his shoulders—an unspoken acknowledgment that the shot had landed, and that no offense was taken.
Behind him, Steve Rogers clenched a fist and brought it to his mouth, clearing his throat to suppress a laugh before it escaped. His expression settled into something firm and professional as he straightened.
Tony stepped forward first, planting the tone of the interrogation.
"We're going to ask you a few questions," he said evenly. "Don't bother lying. Your vitals are being monitored by an artificial intelligence that's very good at telling when you do."
He flicked a glance at Steve, a clear 'your turn.'
Steve nodded once. "Tell us," he said, sounding calm but commanding, "what planet are you from?"
It was as if the room held its breath as even in the briefing room above, every eye stayed glued to the feed.
"Earth," Shazam answered without hesitation.
Tony's lips curled faintly. "Earth as in the one you were planning to invade?"
Shazam shook his head. "No. I'm from Earth—but not this Earth. A—"
"Parallel dimension," Bruce Banner cut in, finishing the thought before Shazam could. His eyes lit up with curiosity, the concept clearly catching his interest.
Tony arched a brow. Strange and Steve, however, remained silent and attentive, watching Shazam closely.
"More like an entirely different universe," Shazam clarified. His gaze moved over them before returning to their faces. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Nothing about you reminds me of the heroes from my world. Not even close."
Steve leaned forward slightly. "Are there monsters swarming your Earth?"
"No," Shazam replied.
The answer earned a brief exchange of glances among the Avengers—disappointment mixed with unease. They had been hoping for a connection with their current situation.
Something that fits.
"Then tell us about your world," Strange said, lifting a hand in a small gesture for him to continue.
Shazam took a breath. "I come from an Earth where humans and aliens live together."
That drew closer looks, but no one interrupted.
"I'm part of a team of superheroes," he went on. "We're known as Earth's mightiest heroes. We protect our world from extraterrestrial threats—disasters, invasions, madmen who try to destroy or enslave it."
His voice lowered, losing its earlier confidence.
"Well… we did, until a few days ago."
The shift didn't go unnoticed.
"…Excuse me," Tony said slowly, his eyes narrowing. "Did you say superheroes?"
"Like mutants?" Banner added quickly.
Shazam frowned, thinking it through. "No… I don't think so." He hesitated. "Batman, maybe—but not really."
"Did you just say Batman?" Steve asked, his tone laced with disbelief.
"Do you mean a humanoid bat?" Banner asked, while Strange and Steve silently observed.
If Shazam's answer aligned too closely with what they already suspected, it would all but confirm he was lying.
"No," he said firmly. "That's just his moniker. He's human—but among criminals, he's considered their worst nightmare."
Up in the briefing room, Thor stroked his beard thoughtfully as he watched the live feed.
"I imagine him as a grown man dressed like a bat," he mused aloud.
Clint took a long pull from his beer, eyes drifting toward the ceiling as his imagination filled in the blanks.
"Yeah," he said dryly. "That'd keep me up at night."
The mood shifted when Bruce Banner leaned closer to his microphone.
"What happened a few days ago?" he asked carefully. "How did you end up in this universe?"
Shazam exhaled heavily, the sound weighed down with loss. "A disaster struck my world," he said. "Earth was erased, wiped out by a wave of antimatter."
Their reactions were immediate upon hearing such a thing. Their backs straightened as they leaned in on that piece of intel regarding a disaster capable of erasing an entire planet, every casual posture vanished. Even Tony's usual flippancy evaporated as his expression hardened.
"What?" Tony asked, unease creeping into his voice. "What caused something like that?"
He couldn't help but wonder if that could happen to their own earth.
"It was done by an ancient and incredibly powerful being," Shazam replied. "One who wields antimatter itself."
While they absorbed that, he quickly switched the topic in order to avoid having to explain how he got here. He felt it might sound so bizarre that his story would seem made up.
"We also had people who wielded magic on our team, one who manipulates fate, a female wizard… well, I guess that makes her a witch." He paused briefly, then continued, almost casually. "And there's another wizard., although he's runk most of the time, he did like spending his vacations in Hell."
Strange blinked.
"Did you just say," he asked slowly, disbelief edging his voice, "that this man vacations in Hell?"
Shazam gave a slight nod of confirmation.
Strange stared at him, visibly re-evaluating several assumptions he had about reality.
Steve cleared his throat. "What was the name of this team of heroes?"
"We're called the Justice League," Shazam answered.
In the briefing room, Clint nodded in approval. "Not gonna lie," he said, "that's a pretty cool name."
No one disagreed.
Strange finally spoke again, eyes fixed on Shazam with renewed intensity. This was the question that had been lingering since the moment they'd watched him take Mjolnir to the face—and then answer Thor's lightning with lightning of his own.
"And you," the Sorcerer Supreme asked with a calm but probing voice, "who are you?"
The room fell silent, waiting for the answer that would define everything that came next.
Shazam drew in a slow, deliberate breath—deep enough that his chest visibly rose beneath the lightning-emblazoned suit. The action wasn't born of nerves alone; it was measured and intentional. He was choosing his words carefully, choosing to reveal only what was necessary.
"I am a champion of the gods," he said at last with a calm but firm tone.
The declaration settled upon everyone who heard it.
Thor, seated along the polished conference table, leaned forward slightly. The easy slouch he'd worn moments ago vanished. His broad shoulders squared, and his blue eyes narrowed with sudden focus.
There was no mockery in his expression now—only alert curiosity, the look of a warrior who had just heard something that tugged at ancient memory.
Tony Stark, however, arched a brow and tilted his head, skepticism dancing across his features.
"Champion?" he repeated lightly. "As in gladiators in a colosseum?"
Shazam's face remained utterly deadpan.
"No."
The single-word response landed flat and unamused, which only made Tony's mouth twitch faintly in reluctant amusement.
Doctor Strange's expression, in contrast, grew intent. His eyes narrowed just slightly, not in suspicion, but in thought. He folded his hands, crossed upon his chest.
"What kind of champion?" Strange asked, his tone of voice sounded precise and probing.
Beside him, Steve Rogers gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. His posture was upright as always, hands clasped loosely behind him.
Bruce Banner adjusted his glasses with careful fingers, pushing them higher on the bridge of his nose. His gaze narrowed, analytical as he processed what their guest meant. gods. Champions. Ancient forces capable of erupting disasters that could erase an entire planet.
His scientific mind was already trying to categorize the metaphysical claim into something measurable.
"For all we know," Tony added, his tone sounding even more direct. "You could be the champion of those monsters."
Shazam noticed. He saw the direction their thoughts were drifting, saw the subtle shift from curiosity to doubt and back to suspicion.
So he decided to give them something, just enough. "Apart from being the champion of the gods," he said evenly, "I am also a guardian. It is my responsibility to ensure that the Seven Deadly Sins remain in confinement… and that they are unable to directly influence humanity in their physical forms."
The words seemed to echo in their ears.
"Excuse me," Strange said slowly, "did you just say the Seven Deadly Sins?"
Steve's eyes flickered toward him.
Banner's hand froze midway through another glasses adjustment. Tony's casual posture stiffened almost imperceptibly.
They all exchanged brief glances—silent communication passing between men who had faced alien invasions and cosmic tyrants together. Then, almost as one, they turned their attention back to their guest.
Shazam met their stares without flinching.
In the adjoining briefing area, separated only by glass panels and still having a live feed display, Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton had also fallen silent. Natasha's posture shifted subtly, one leg crossing over the other as her sharp green eyes moved—not to Shazam—but to Thor.
Clint followed her gaze.
Thor sat at the end of the table, a bottle of beer in his hand. Three empty bottles stood beside him like fallen soldiers. Now, however, the bottle hovered near his lips without tipping.
Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly, not in suspicion but in expectation. Clint leaned back in his chair, folding his arms loosely across his chest. If anyone in this room would recognize a "champion of the gods," it would be the literal god among them.
Thor felt their attention and slowly lowered the bottle.
Thor gave a short scoff, lifting the bottle slightly in one large hand as if to dismiss the weight of their stares.
"What are you all looking at me for?" he muttered, faint irritation rumbling beneath his voice. "I have never heard of such a champion before."
The admission broke whatever expectation had settled over the table. Natasha and Clint exchanged a brief look before their attention returned to the central display, unwilling to miss even a second of what was unfolding.
"What do you mean by—"
"—Being that you are a champion of the gods," Strange interjected smoothly, cutting across Banner's unfinished question without apology, "that would imply you were bestowed a gift. An ability granted by them. Correct?"
His tone was direct. There was no longer idle curiosity in it. His dark eyes were fixed intently on Shazam, studying him as one might examine a puzzle box that had finally begun to open.
Banner paused, glancing at Strange. Tony noticed it too—the way the Sorcerer Supreme seemed particularly invested, as though he wasn't merely asking questions but confirming suspicions.
Shazam nodded once. "Yes."
Strange leaned back slightly, but his gaze did not waver.
"Then answer me this," he continued, voice lower now, and deliberate. "Among those you are empowered by… is there a human? And if so—what is their name?"
The room seemed to narrow around that question.
Steve's jaw tightened subtly. Tony's fingers twitched slightly. Banner adjusted his glasses again, slower this time. They were all connecting threads—but Strange… Strange looked as though he was following a trail only he could see.
Shazam hesitated.
He could feel the weight of the choice. Revealing more meant revealing vulnerability. Yet this man—the wizard before him—had already demonstrated mastery over space itself. Portals, maybe dimensions even. If anyone here could send him home…
Perhaps it was worth the risk.
"Yes…" Shazam said carefully. "King Solomon."
The name landed like a dropped stone in still water.
"You mean King Solomon, from biblical times?" Banner asked immediately, his brows lifting behind his lenses. The scientist in him reacted first—historical reference, ancient figure, theological implication.
"Said to be the wisest man who ever lived?" Tony added, his tone laced with incredulity and fascination in equal measure. "That Solomon?"
There was confusion in their voices, but not mockery. Not this time.
Steve's expression shifted into thoughtful focus. Natasha's posture straightened slightly in her chair beyond the glass. Even Thor's grip tightened faintly around his bottle.
All eyes turned—slowly, instinctively—to Doctor Strange.
And that was when they saw it.
Strange's pupils constricted.
It was subtle—but unmistakable.
Something had clicked.
The casual probing vanished from his face, replaced instantly by something far more grave. His jaw set. The lines around his eyes hardened. For a fleeting second—just a fraction—there was something else there too.
Recognition.
And beneath it—
Concern.
No. Not concern.
Omen.
It was the look of a man who had just realized that the situation in front of them was far greater than anyone in that room had anticipated.