I stood atop a high plateau, the sky over Asgard's realm blazing with aurora and storm. Below me, the halls of the All-Father shimmered, golden towers bending light across the clouds. Odin, recently returned from his war across the Nine Realms, faced me. His single eye, sharp and piercing, measured me with careful suspicion.
I could feel it: the young Overton was wary. Fresh from battles, cautious from sealing away his daughter, yet still radiating the power and authority that would one day terrify realms. A warlord tempered by experience—but not by me.
"Merlin," he said, his voice carrying across the wind, "you step into Asgard's domain as if it were your own."
I sipped my tea with a faint smile. "Perhaps it is," I replied casually. My words carried the weight of centuries of strategy, power, and subtle threat. "Or perhaps I simply wish to discuss matters before any… unfortunate incidents arise."
Odin's eyebrow lifted. "Speak plainly."
I set my cup down and let my aura flare. Not overwhelming, not enough to incinerate him, but enough to remind him that I was no mere mortal, no mere sorcerer. My magic rippled like sunlight across multiple realities. Dimensional energy, Fate mana, BBC sorcery, and Harry Potter magic all intertwined around me, bending the very air.
He shifted slightly. I could sense the caution in him. The caution that comes when someone realizes they are not quite in control.
"I wish to negotiate Earth's independence," I continued. "It will remain under my protection, my domain. The Nine Realms will have no authority there. But cooperation remains possible. If you require anything from Earth, you may ask—through me. And I may grant it, or deny it."
Odin's single eye glinted. The power flexing between us was… palpable. He summoned a crackling storm, lightning arcing, thunder rolling, the very plateau trembling. I responded in kind: a barrier of swirling white and dark fire, lightning, and eldritch runes forming around me, flowing with infinite magical energy.
It was… close. Our forces clashed subtly, a display meant as negotiation theater rather than outright war. Neither of us escalated fully; both aware that the other could destroy the other—but also aware that the conversation mattered.
Hours passed. Time in my mind flowed differently; minutes stretched to centuries. I casually sipped tea, books orbiting me, while I felt threads of power, the position of the stars, and the tides of magical energy across the multiverse. Odin was impressive—strategic, cunning, war-hardened—but predictable in ways only someone like me could exploit.
"You are… formidable," he finally admitted. "Stronger than most mortals I have encountered. Stronger than many gods, even."
I inclined my head, just slightly. "I aim to be thorough. Earth deserves a caretaker."
A tense pause. Odin weighed his options. Then, slowly, deliberately, he inclined his head. "So be it. Earth shall remain your independent domain. I will not interfere, nor shall any of the Nine Realms act there without your consent."
I allowed a small, satisfied smile. "Agreed. And if future complications arise, I assume we may negotiate as… equals?"
"Indeed," he said, the slightest warmth in his tone betraying his respect for a power that could rival the Nine Realms themselves.
And with that, the pact was sealed.
I had not only negotiated peace, but I had done so while demonstrating a fraction of my full power. Earth was mine, fully and officially, with Odin's acknowledgment. My reputation across realms would spread even further after this.
I stepped back, floating lazily above the plateau, and sipped my tea once more. The multiverse was bending subtly, reality acknowledging me.
Yes… this was going to be fun.