Johan sat alone in the junkyard, eyes locked on the floating timer:
00:00:03... 00:00:02... 00:00:01...
The system shattered the air with a deafless chime as the message burned into his vision:
[ GOD'S 3RD GIFT: MULTIVERSAL MAGIC ]
[ PUREST ENERGY IN EXISTENCE ]
[ COMPATIBLE WITH ALL KNOWN/UNKNOWN MAGIC SYSTEMS ]
Johan's breath hitched. "Examples?"
The system responded with a reel of holographic flashes:
Naruto's Rasengan swirling with Dr. Strange's eldritch shields.
Black Clover's runes merging with Scarlet Witch's chaos magic.
DC's Speed Force lightning crackling through Jujutsu Kaisen's domain expansions.
Any and all form of magic can be created.
"Acept," Johan whispered.
And then—
The world screamed.
Charles Xavier's fingers spasmed around his queen piece as his telekinesis jerked violently sideways, scattering the chessboard. Scott barely caught him before he toppled from his chair.
"A new omega," the Professor gasped, clutching his temples. "But this... this isn't mutation."
Down the hall, Jean Grey collapsed against a locker, the Phoenix's scream inside her skull so loud it shattered the glass light fixtures above her. Blood dripped from her nose onto her sweater as the entity raged: FIND IT. CONSUME IT.
And Emma Frost—perched on that distant rooftop—felt her diamond form explode across her skin without permission. The building's ledge cracked under her grip as she stared at Johan, her breath coming too fast. For the first time in sixteen years, Emma Frost was afraid.
In a Latverian slum, Wanda Maximoff's tin cup boiled over in her hands. The voices that had haunted her for months—Pietro's ghost, Chthon's whispers—snuffed out like candle flames. Only one thought remained, blazing brighter than any hex: That power... it can fix me.
Half a world away, the Ancient One dropped her jasmine tea as the Mirror Dimension rippled like struck water. The sorcerers training below faltered as she snarled to a wide-eyed Stephen Strange: "Ready the Sanctums. Something just broke the rules."
Tony Stark's penthouse went dark as JARVIS glitched mid-sentence, his voice distorting: "—energy signature exceeds cosmic threshol—ERROR**—recommend immediate evacua—"
"Location," Tony demanded, already yanking open a control panel. "Give me a goddamn location!"
At SHIELD HQ, every monitor in the Triskelion flashed blood-red. Fury was halfway out of his chair before the alarms even started. "Someone tell me that wasn't a nuke," he growled.
And in the junkyard, Marble pulsed violet, its voice shedding its artificial cadence as it whispered: "Host. I am... aware now."
Mephisto's throne split down the middle as he threw back his head and laughed, the sound shaking the bones of damned souls. "Oh," he crooned, "Heaven won't like this one."
On Asgard's golden balconies, Odin's grip on Gungnir tightened as Heimdall's voice echoed through the stars and into his mind: "Allfather... Yggdrasil has grown a new branch."
The magic wasent flowing through, it was flooding him.
The magic tore through him like a wildfire, rewriting cells, warping gravity. Shadows split into hydra heads—Nue's feathers molting into ash, Rabbit Escape birthing stillborn clones. The system's warnings blared:
[ MULTIVERSAL MAGIC ASSIMILATION: 12% ]
[ WARNING: REALITY INTEGRITY AT RISK, TO MUCH POWER RELEASED ]
No. No. No. Johan's thoughts fractured. Can't let them find me. Can't—
Memories of his father's hand slipping away, of God's amused smirk, of Emma's diamond-sharp gaze. Hide. Fix it. Hide.
The system flickered:
[ EMERGENCY PROTOCOL: BINDING VOW TEMPLATE DETECTED(JJK) ]
[ SACRIFICE 99.99% MAGIC TO BOOST CONTROL? Y/N ]
Perfect, He slammed Y in his mind.
The vow carved itself into his psyche, a scream trapped behind teeth:
Take it. Take almost all of it. Let me control what's left. Let me hide.
The magic shrieked.
Reality snapped like a rubber band.
When his vision cleared, the junkyard was wrong—rusted cars blooming crystalline fungi, shattered glass hovering in fractal patterns. His body felt hollowed out, a drained battery. But the shadows... the shadows obeyed.
MARBLE: "Host. Mystic entity approaching. Threat level: Unknown."
Golden sparks erupted. The Ancient One stepped through, her gaze sharp as shattered glass.
"You," she said, staring at the crystalline rot spreading from Johan's sneakers, "are a paradox."
Johan's wolf materialized, growling. Control. 60%. Enough.
"I fixed it," he rasped.
"You staunched a wound with a tourniquet," she corrected, kneeling to inspect the mutated gravel. "This power doesn't belong here. It adapts. Infects."
He staggered back. "I'll handle it."
"Will you?" She conjured a mirror showing Wanda Maximoff's chaos magic devouring a city block, Mephisto's grin in the flames. "They'll come. For the scraps you've left... and the feast you've hidden."
A business card appeared in Johan's palm, glowing with Kamar-Taj's seal.
"When you tire of playing martyr," she said, vanishing, "call."
EMMA FROST POV
She found him retching behind the school dumpster, his aura dimmed but wrongness lingering like rot.
"Johan," she drawled, heels clicking. "You look like hell."
He wiped his mouth. "Bad tacos."
A lie. His mind—usually a storm of guilt and sarcasm—felt... muffled. Like static.
"You're hiding something," she said, telepathy clawing at the void around him.
"Aren't we all, Frost?"
His shadow twitched—too sharp, too many teeth.
"You're scared," she realized.
"You're projecting."
Their eyes locked. For a heartbeat, she saw it—the boy on the tracks, shoving his father to safety. The same stubbornness. The same fear.
"Whatever you're doing," she said, turning away, "don't die. I'd hate to inherit your locker."
FAMILY DINNER
His mother's aloo gobi tasted like ash.
"We got a call," his father said, pushing an FBI badge across the table. Phillip Coulson. "They're asking about 'disturbances.'"
Johan's fork bent. "I'll handle it."
"Beta..." His mother's hand covered his. "You're still our son. Even if..."
"Even if I'm not like you?"
"Even if you're more," his father said.
The next day
Phill Coulson, smiled like a dentist. "Just routine, Mr. Smith. Reports of... electrical issues."
Johan leaned against the doorframe, Marble humming in his pocket. "We had a blackout last week. Storms, right?"
Coulson's gaze lingered on the crack in the wall where devine dogs shadow had brushed. "Right. Just checking to see if anything unusual happened around here."
Johan's heart raced. He could feel the weight of the lie pressing down on him. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Just the usual teenage stuff."
Coulson raised an eyebrow, his smile unwavering. "Teenage stuff, huh? You know, I remember being your age. A lot of strange things happen when you're a teenager."
Johan's mother stepped forward, her voice warm but cautious. "Is this about the recent disturbances in the area? We've heard some strange noises at night."
Coulson nodded, his expression serious. "We're looking into it. Just a precaution. You know how it is—keeping the community safe."
Johan's father crossed his arms, studying Coulson. "You're with the FBI, right? What exactly are you investigating?"
Coulson's smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered. "Just some reports of energy fluctuations. Nothing to worry about. We're just gathering information."
Johan felt the tension in the air, the unspoken questions hanging between them. "Look, if you need anything, just ask. I'm sure we can help."
Coulson's gaze shifted back to Johan. "I appreciate that, Johan. If you notice anything strange, don't hesitate to reach out."
"Sure," Johan replied, forcing a casual tone. "I'll keep an eye out."
Coulson nodded, stepping back toward the door. "Thanks for your time, Mr. and Mrs. Smith. I'll be in touch if we need anything else."
As he turned to leave, Johan felt a wave of relief wash over him. He watched as Coulson walked down the driveway, the man's demeanor still lingering in his mind.
"Who was that?" his mother asked, her brow furrowed.
"Just a routine check," Johan replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "Nothing to worry about."
His father studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, but remember, we're here for you, Johan. No matter what."
Johan smiled, grateful for their support. "I know, Dad. Thanks."
As Coulson's car pulled away, Johan felt the weight of the world pressing down on him. He turned back to his parents, determination settling in. "I'm going to figure this out.