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GLH 15
🕑 Added 2025-06-28 18:13:20 +0000 UTCDisclaimer: This is a story based on Harry Potter, Marvel, DC and Image comics characters and all recognizable characters, plots belong to Jk Rowling,Marvel, DC and Image comics. I claim no ownership to it.
Chapter 15: The World Was Not Ready : Part III
Arcturus Black
His thoughts were broken as his elf delivered the latest letter. There were many pending after his showcase at the Mot, but the address on this one caught his eye.
SSR... currently known as SHIELD?
“Why the hell are muggles sending me letters by owl?” Lord Black whispered as he opened the letter wandlessly.
He read over it and snorted in disbelief. The muggle, one Coulson, was humbly requesting a meeting regarding Harry Potter and the explosion in Surrey, and even wanted to discuss Captain Rogers.
“As if I remember that muggle soldier when I have far better things to do,” Arcturus hissed with a snort. If needed, he could use Occlumency to dredge up every second of the war to remember, but he couldn’t be bothered to do so—not for a muggle. He decided to inform Harry about the letter and how to proceed.
=====================
Hogwarts.
Albus Dumbledore
Albus lounged in his heavily cushioned chair, eating his favorite muggle sweets. He appeared relaxed and thoughtful inside the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts. But the truth was, his Occlumency was working overtime with three parallel thought streams. He could expand it to seven in desperate times, though that left him with severe headaches and nausea afterward. Albus saw no need to suffer, and three were enough for now.
He processed every memory from the moment he felt the immense magical energy released during Samhain: the meetings with other players, the search for Harry Potter, and finally, the spectacular duel in Azkaban. Even now, Albus had to calm his magic, as the excitement from the fight caused a visible pressure around the room.
He was almost certain the person in that duel had been Harry from the future. The final blast of energy that destroyed the Azkaban wards was nearly identical to what he felt in Surrey when he arrived there. the trial of Sirius and Lord Black’s lack of letter asking for harry confirmed it for him. The movement in the Potter accounts was the final nail in the coffin.
Of course, he hadn't informed anyone in the Order. He had only said that Harry was found and safe. The rest of them wouldn’t understand his brilliance in deducing time travel.
How did he reach that conclusion? It was simple. During his war with Gellert, he’d seen enough to know how much larger the world truly was. The Elder Wand’s lack of performance since the duel was also suspect. No one knew the truth regarding the Potter Family Cloak except for himself and no one else could be the true Master of Death unless he is a Potter. He wondered what had forced Harry to gamble like this.
Albus opened his eyes, weary, as he reached the conclusion he dreaded. It was time to release that man's oaths and pick up his old wand while visiting his hidden manor. He also wanted to begin dueling again.
Muggle technology had advanced so much that Albus feared the Statute of Secrecy would break within a decade. The plight of mutants was already a warning of what the common public would do when magic was exposed. Even before that, he knew his old student would return. Despite the Order being stuck on "Potter Watch," information still reached him.
Tom was stirring in the forests of Albania. His contact there reported that the Dark Lord had suffered serious damage and pain during Samhain and had now reconstituted more powerfully. The mad mutterings were gone, which made Albus dread what Tom would do next.
Albus knew that Tom was more intelligent than even himself and he had always believed that brains trump brawn almost 8 out of ten times. It really tickled his funny bone that Tom, then went on to the brawn way in his fighting style, when he was so dangerous had he followed the brains way.
The second piece of information his network provided was that Andromeda and Ted Tonks had moved after a meeting with Lord Black. He had the portrait of the most hated headmaster to thank. The complaints from fellow headmasters were worth the intelligence it brought. Lord Black was consolidating his resources and had finally moved to collect the erstwhile Metamorph. Albus had planned to ask Moody to take Nymphadora under his wing when she joined the Auror Corps after this year, but now he knew it would no longer be possible.
He felt the wards tingle as his deputy and the student he requested entered through the gargoyle guarding his office.
Enter, Minerva, young nymphdora. Albus said with twinkle in his eyes. He smiled seeing the glare young metamorph gave him for calling her first name. it always amused him how almost everyone has something so silly that rankles them every single time.
“Enter, Minerva, young Nymphadora,” Albus said with a twinkle in his eyes. He smiled when he saw the glare the young Metamorph gave him for using her first name. It always amused him how almost everyone had something so silly that irked them every time.
“Albus, I am here with Nymphadora, as you asked, after our private advanced transfiguration class.”
“Headmaster,” Nymphadora greeted him, swallowing her irritation.
“Thank you, Minerva. That will be all,” Albus said kindly.
Minerva nodded and left the office. Albus observed the young Metamorph and used a magical technique—not Legilimency per se, but a method akin to magical cold reading—to sense emotions. The girl felt some trepidation and guilt. Albus wondered what mischief the Head Girl had been up to feel such guilt.
“Nymphadora,” he began with a kind smile, “have you heard from your father or mother? Last I heard, your mother had closed her potion business, and your father has been absent from many important meetings. One of them was with me.”
Nymphadora shook her head. “I’ve heard nothing except that I must come home for Christmas, and all will be explained. The letters were quite mysterious. I feel like they want to convince me not to join the Aurors. My mother always worried and was never fully supportive. Maybe the Azkaban incident spooked them, along with the injustice cousin Sirius faced,” she finished pointedly.
Albus wondered whether Andromeda understood Metamorphmagus magic—or if she simply hadn’t informed her daughter.
“Well, it’ll be a loss for the DMLE. I had planned to ask Moody to take you on as his junior partner. Alas, it’s not to be,” Albus said. He watched the girl nearly snarl in indignation, her hair shifting from brown to red, then orange, and finally blood red.
“I am an adult, and not even my mother can stop me, Headmaster. Please don’t withdraw your recommendation to Moody. I’ve worked too hard to quit now. Being an Auror has been my goal since I started at Hogwarts.”
Albus looked at the girl with pity.
“Ah, you haven’t been told yet. Lord Arcturus is not someone who’s used to being denied, especially within his own family. And your mother has taken up the Black name again. I suggest you follow her lead for now, Nymphadora. It’ll be dangerous for you soon—and I don’t mean that in the usual way. Your mother or Lord Black will explain it to you. Just like the Elementals, you too are blessed by Lady Magic, though your growth into it will be different.”
He saw the surprise in the young Metamorph’s eyes and smiled.
“In fact, let me offer a helping hand. I’ve reviewed your transfiguration lessons with Minerva, and I agree with her. You’ve honed your natural talent into true skill. Only James Potter, Minerva, and a young Tom Riddle showed talent close to yours, but your Metamorph abilities place you above them in the matter of raw talent. Yet they never approached my level in battle transfiguration—they limited themselves to traditional methods. I’ll give you private lessons twice a month, and some reading material.”
“Thank you, Professor. I won’t waste your time,” Tonks said, a little nervously.
Albus dismissed her and smiled as she tripped over the last step of the escalator due to her Metamorphmagus nature.
“Gellert, you should have followed my lead,” Albus thought. “See how far a helping hand can go.”
Albus was pulled from his thoughts as Minerva re-entered the office. He felt the volatility of her magic, and her lips were pressed thin with disapproval.
“Minerva,” Albus said, gesturing to the chair opposite his desk.
“Albus, you know why I’m here. Now answer. Where is Harry Potter? I told you years ago they were a bad lot—even for muggles—and now look what’s happened,” Minerva hissed.
Albus’s smile vanished. He considered his answer.
“I wish I could give you a definite answer, Minerva. But even I don’t know exactly where he is. I know he’s safe, as Lord Black hasn’t contacted me since his false threat at the Wizengamot. The only reason he hasn’t moved against me is that he knows exactly where Harry is and has no need to.”
Minerva’s eyes widened.
“You called off the Order’s search based on guesses? This is madness, Albus—even for your eccentric behavior!”
Albus ignored the rebuke.
“Please, Minerva. My guesses are almost always right, and I have other reasons to believe Mr. Potter is alive and well. The entire Potter vault has been liquidated into muggle money. Only Harry could have done that personally.”
“What?” Minerva exclaimed. “Muggle money? Why would he do that? For whom?”
“That is the question, Minerva,” Albus said ominously. “That is the question.”
=====================================
The Hydra Base
Harry Potter looked at the two finished magical SS serums he had designed specifically for Arcturus and Sirius Black. By the time he returned to his base, the scientists had already produced the standard magical SS serum, which he now needed to adjust further. Both men had already gone through several rituals beyond the basic adaptation ritual, and he had to account for those when modifying the serum.
He was thankful he had spent so much time in his previous life obsessing over this serum—working on magical adaptations—so he could now use it in what might be his final chance.
He waved his hand and destroyed the two vials of blood he collected from the blacks which he used to test the SS serum compatibility while developing it for them.
He waved his hand and destroyed the two vials of blood he had collected from the Blacks, which he had used to test serum compatibility during development.
Sirius was still in recovery, and Arcturus was busy with recruitment and organization. Harry knew his uncle was eager to recruit the Tonkses for some reason. He used his Memory Cache to scan through Voldemort’s memories, which he had stolen, and a grin appeared on his face when he found the reason for Arcturus’s enthusiasm.
“So this is that type of world,” Harry whispered, as he learned about Metamorphmagus traits, Elementals, and other supposed immortals.
“So Tonks is a potential immortal... and even a future magical lord when she ages enough.”
Harry scoffed. That’ll be too late for his purposes. Some form of accelerated time would be needed. He made a mental note to modify the SS serum further for her when the time came.
Harry closed his eyes as he sorted through his plans for America, where he would be leaving the next day. He had to visit Gotham and Wayne Manor to see which version of Batman he was dealing with.
He shuddered as his Memory Cache hit him with images of the hundreds of different Batmans he had encountered.
Over various lives, he had been Bruce’s protégé, son, Robin, enemy, successor—and even lover once or twice, during experimental phases. He had trained under different Batmans, and even under Batman’s mentors, to learn everything there was about being the Bat.
And yet, almost every Batman had managed to surprise him.
He knew he only had two choices regarding the Batman: either successfully recruit him, or kill him to ensure Harry’s plans proceeded without interference.
He preferred recruitment. A man of Bruce’s talent was unmatched. And having the support of one of the richest men in the world would be incredibly useful for his muggle business ventures.
Harry was hopeful this Batman didn’t have the infamous no-kill rule—or if he did, that he was pragmatic enough not to pick fights with those who did kill villains.
“Sir.”
His thoughts were interrupted by the head scientist, A. John, who had been working in the lab.
Harry didn’t even open his eyes to look at the muggle scientist. He simply waved his hand for him to continue.
“What’s next for us? Shall we continue making the base serums?” John asked hesitantly.
Harry thought for a moment before replying.
“Make only five. Then destroy every piece of written documentation. After that, try developing your own version of Erskine’s formula. Now that you know more about the serum, let’s see if you can create something more advanced—or something unique. Anything else?”
“Yes, sir. The Baron—the leader of this branch—contacted the chief here to ask why there was no prior report before this sudden surge in power and funding. We handled it, but if anything else unusual happens, it could raise suspicions.”
Harry just snorted in reply.
“Your concerns are noted, John. But even if they do discover something, there's nothing they can do. Continue as usual. Here, take this mirror.”
John looked stupefied as he took the floating mirror.
Harry scoffed.
“Ah, you don’t know what it does. Just call my name—‘Harry’—and it’ll contact me. You can talk to me if Hydra comes snooping around. Otherwise, don’t contact me at all.”
“Also, I’ll be magically locking the lab with the equipment for the SS serum injection. I’ll return with the two people chosen to receive my blessing.”
==============================================
Black Castle.
Harry appeared in the entrance room, and even he couldn’t stop the smile as the family wards welcomed him with warmth.
“Even the Black family magic loves something,” Harry whispered as he walked toward where he could feel his uncle and two other people. He increased his telepathic power, and his mind brushed against considerable Occlumency shields. Yet, he could still get the names—it was indeed the Tonkses.
It amazed him how subtle his psychic powers were. Even with considerable experience, they couldn’t sense his intrusion.
Harry reached the room’s threshold and extended his magical presence, connecting to the wards to check whether the Tonkses had accepted the proposal. He knew they had been contacted a week ago by his uncle. He could feel only family from the wards and strode into the solar as if he owned the room.
Even though Arcturus remained calm—aware of Harry's arrival through the wards—the Tonkses immediately jumped sideways, wands in hand.
Harry just grinned as his Thought Stream 3: Passive Defense and Offense Planning had already increased his magical and psychic shields to 20% even before the Tonkses had moved. His Thought Stream 7: Telepathy and Telekinesis froze them both—body and mind—by the time they stood.
Harry could feel their mental shields struggling against his hold, but it wasn’t enough. If he increased his strength, their defenses would crumble like a snow castle.
He thanked himself—and his past obsession with automated defenses used by advanced armies in the future. The Tonkses weren’t even a real threat, yet his mind responded instantly. His conscious mind could still curse, talk, or fight while they were frozen under his psychic power.
“Enough,” Arcturus snapped, and the wards responded with an invisible pressure on both Harry and the Tonkses.
Harry scoffed and released his hold over them. With a subtle use of telekinesis, he eased them gently back into their chairs—no need for them to fall on their bums.
“Now, now, no need to fight among allies. Tonkses, this is Harry Potter—and I’m sure now you believe everything I’ve been telling you over the past week. I’m not exploiting a child for profit—he’s exploiting me and the Blacks,” Arcturus grumbled.
“Don’t be a complaint box, dear uncle. You’re looking younger than before, and I can feel your magic becoming more active and recovering. See? That’s the basic benefit of me knocking on the Black Castle wards all those days ago. And now, I’ve even completed the promised Super Soldier Serum—magical version—for both you and Sirius. What a generous nephew I am! Also, Andromeda and Ted—I can feel you’ve completed the reinstatement rituals, so let me welcome you both to the Black family as the heir’s heir,” Harry said with an open grin.
He could feel the incredulity and pure surprise from the Tonkses. They couldn’t process the dichotomy between his childlike appearance and his behavior and power.
“Thank you, Mr. Potter,” Andromeda said.
“No need for that. We’re family—call me Harry,” Harry said with a welcoming smile, while his psychic powers blasted out a Trust me aura, which calmed them both.
“Oh, granddaughter, Ted—don’t be fooled by the face of this little monster. He’ll kill you both with that same charming grin if it serves his goals.”
Both Tonkses froze, and Harry felt a ripple of fear from them.
“Please, uncle, don’t be a spoilsport. I have no reason to harm them, as long as they don’t betray me. And I know they have no reason to do so. The magical contract has already made it certain. But if they do betray me, I assure you I won’t do something as merciful as killing. Death is a gift from me to my enemies. For traitors, the punishment will be far greater than death,” Harry said with the same smile.
Ted didn’t know what to say, but Andromeda simply nodded with forced calm before saying,
“Then let me say—we have no reason to betray you. It’s all for Nymphadora, after all.”
“Ah, the young Metamorph,” Harry said. “You guys were truly lucky to have Dumbledore’s and others’ protection. But now you don’t have to worry—your family is under my protection, and I protect what’s mine very aggressively.”
Andromeda looked visibly relieved.
“I’m thankful for that, Harry. And we’ll need your help this Christmas to convince Nymphadora to delay her Auror ambitions.”
“Oh?” Harry raised his eyebrows. “Why me?” Then he smirked.
“Ah, I get it—she needs to see the overwhelming difference between the ordinary and those favored by Lady Magic. Don’t worry, I’ll be here, and I’ll take her under my wing and train her.”
“Speaking of Metamorphmagi, Uncle, what’s the latest with the two Black immortals—the first one, and your sister Cassiopeia?”
Arcturus grumbled in annoyance.
“Well, I sent letters and even hinted at things, but there was no reply.”
Harry frowned. “No matter. Don’t bother sending anything more. The immortals will come begging for information once the truth is revealed. Curiosity is, after all, an immortal’s greatest sin—and boredom, their greatest enemy.”
Arcturus snorted, and even Andromeda laughed.
“Ted,” Harry called, “I want you to start the procedure for incorporating a muggle private limited company—LEP Ltd, named after my mother and the founder of the formula it’s based on.”
“Harry,” Andromeda called, making Harry look at her curiously, “are you aware of ICW rules and how strict they are? This won’t end well for us.”
“Oh?” Harry said. “Don’t worry about the ICW, Aunt. We’re a long way from selling to muggles. Every potion needs to be handmade—at least by a squib—to infuse magic into the concoction. We’re going to stockpile and train a workforce before going public. The launch must be so massive that even trying to stop the potions after the launch would lead to worldwide riots. I’ll take care of anyone who thinks they can dictate terms.”
“Wait, wait,” Arcturus cut in. “So for years, we’re not even getting returns? This is going to drain my coffers. And for what? Do we even have enough potion ingredients to do what you’re saying, Harry?”
“There aren’t enough ingredients for our needs, and people will notice long before we go public,” Harry said calmly with a shrug. “I’m working on it. If all goes well, we’ll produce ingredients in bulk year-round. Lady Magic is always with us, after all.”
“I see,” Arcturus replied with a frown. Harry noted that Andromeda still didn’t seem convinced, but she didn’t protest—potion-making was her job, not logistics.
Harry remained silent as the Tonkses excused themselves after asking for clarification on the new business plans.
“So, you said you’ve finished it?” Arcturus asked with curiosity.
“Yep,” Harry replied with a pop.
“Do you think it’s even essential for me now? I’m old, and training with new abilities would be a cumbersome task,” Arcturus said.
“Well, you could remain a weak old man and be taken down by the next physically powerful person who comes after me,” Harry said dryly. “We don’t need the strength aspect with our magic, true—but the reflexes, speed, and mental augmentation are game changers, Uncle. Earlier, I had to consciously use magic to empower my body. Now, the moment I think about it, it’s already in effect. With the enemies we’re going to face, that kind of automation is crucial for survival.”
Arcturus sighed. “Yeah, yeah, more wars to fight. I’ll take it, nephew—no need for further motivation. Speaking of enemies… I don’t know if they’re enemies yet, but I received a letter by owl from a muggle spy. He even referred to Charlus’s old friends from the muggle world during the Great War. They wanted to know about you, what happened in Surrey, and your muggle uncle’s place. I ignored it as usual, but I want you to read it and deal with it. I’ve got better things to do than talk about a captain I barely know.”
Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“A muggle spy knows enough to reach out to you?” He scoffed. “Clearly, you lot have been exaggerating about the ICW and its hard on for statue of secrecy then. Let me see it.”
Arcturus pointed to a letter on the table, and Harry willed it to float toward him, opening it midair.
Lord Black,
I am writing on behalf of one of the associations you were part of, in service to Great Britain alongside your friend Charlus Potter during World War II. You may remember it as the SSR, now evolved into SHIELD under your old friends, Stark and Carter.
We have discovered that Harry Potter has gone missing from normal London after the explosion that killed his mother’s family and many others. This is a serious matter. Since you assumed control as Regent of House Potter, please allow a meeting between us and Harry if you know where he is—or at least allow a meeting regarding the explosion.
On a personal note, I would love to arrange a lunch with you to reminisce about your comrades—especially Captain Steve Rogers.
Phil Coulson,
Agent of SHIELD
Harry finished reading as his thought streams searched for Phil and SHIELD in his memories. The answer came quickly, along with a flood of information, which he promptly filtered, retaining only the essentials.
“Interesting. Very interesting to see them involve themselves this fast,” Harry said after a moment. “Ignore them for now. Let’s see how they proceed. Same strategy as with Dumbledore.”
Arcturus nodded.
“A good strategy—when we have the upper hand, let the opposing players show their hand first.”
===============================
Lucius Malfoy
Malfoy Manor
Lucius looked at the silver prosthetic as it held the firewhiskey tumbler. He missed feeling the coldness of the drink with his own hands. He swirled the whiskey and took another sip, cursing the damned Blacks.
His thoughts were interrupted by the entrance of his beautiful wife, Narcissa.
Lucius looked at the woman and felt horrible that she had to suffer this indignity. She looked pale and sick, with how the magic had cut out the Black family magic from her veins. More than that, it made him tremble in rage at how public it had been. He knew she would recover, but seeing her like this made him feel pity.
“Enough, Lucius. I don’t want your pity,” Narcissa snarled. “I warned you, years ago, to never turn your wand on a Black in front of them, and you went and did just that in front of Lord Black—who fought in the Great War. Even Bella, in all her madness, knew to grit her teeth and swallow her anger when he sat and insulted her precious Dark Lord. I told you to keep it subtle when you were in St. Mungo's, but you provoked my grandfather enough that he exiled me from the family—just to weaken you politically and financially.”
Lucius took the entire glass of Firewhiskey to calm his anger at his wife’s pointed words.
“I had no choice, Narcissa. I was humiliated in front of the world. Our plan—one we’ve implemented for over a decade—was crumbling before my eyes, and I had a solid chance to get the Wizengamot to do my work for me. How in Merlin’s name was I to know that cursed rat was still alive, and in the hands of your grandfather? I had the Wizengamot in my palm, and I thought it was a done deal,” Lucius snapped.
Narcissa snorted and then laughed—hard. Lucius poured himself another shot, ignoring the laughter that eerily reminded him of her insane elder sister.
“Oh, poor Lucy,” Narcissa cooed in between laughter. “You thought you had the Wizengamot in your hands in just a few years, while my grandfather ruled it for decades? At least you could’ve escaped the humiliation of losing your hand in a single move by stating the fact that his bodyguard fought off Albus Dumbledore. My grandfather walked into Azkaban with a plan, and he did the same with the Wizengamot. He knew there would be opposition, and he brought the big staves to do what he needed. You fell into a non-existent trap—one he hadn’t even aimed at you.”
Lucius used his Occlumency to think through what Cissy said, and he grimaced. In his haste to seize the Black lordship and fortune, he’d been blinded by his own arrogance. He’d been the political king for so many years that he forgot others could threaten even him.
“I’m sorry, Narcissa,” Lucius said. “You lost the bigger thing from these events. I really want to meet the person who spread the rumor that Lord Black was old and almost mad in his self-imposed exile. If not for that 'accepted truth' all these years, I would’ve taken more prudent steps. I blame Dumbledore too. I’m sure he could’ve blocked the curse from taking my hand—if he wanted to.”
Narcissa had analyzed the memory of the fight, and she knew Albus would have done so if it had been one of his allies standing beside him. She’d seen him react much faster in battles with the Dark Lord.
“There’s nothing to be done, Lucius. We lost this round without gaining anything. I also want you to promise me that you will ignore the bodyguard entirely,” Narcissa said.
Lucius hissed, “Why?”
“I’m sure the bodyguard was my aunt Cassiopeia herself. She’s a metamorph, and they can easily ascend to magical lord level if they work hard enough. There are no other magical lords who could do my grandfather’s bidding. The other is the First Black, but I don’t think she’s involved.”
Lucius felt a chill hearing about the First Black. No wonder Arcturus was bold enough to declare a blood feud against entire factions.
“I see,” Lucius hissed. “I’ll follow your suggestion in this, Narcissa. I should have followed your advice about the Black family lordship too.”
Narcissa just nodded and left to rest.
Lucius sat there, nearly finishing Ogden’s Finest, and began planning how to handle the political landscape. More than that, the magical situation grated his nerves. There had been a surprising amount of violence in the magical world since the blasted explosion at Harry Potter’s muggle home.
Plan after plan passed through his Occluded mind, but none seemed worthwhile. With a grimace, he raised his wand and unlocked the hidden chamber in his table, protected by his greatest security spells.
He took out a black diary that appeared to be a common one, with the initials T. M. Riddle engraved on the back.
====================================
Nicholas Fury
USA
Fury had only just landed when he called on his deputy, Maria Hill, for a debrief. He’d been thinking about the entire situation and how to proceed when Black didn’t respond to their letter. Fury was very tempted to reach out through his own contacts in MI6, but he decided not to involve them further now that the magical spies had finally discovered their existence.
As per his instinct, Black would ignore a letter from a lowly muggle, Fury thought with disgust.
Fury would have ignored the entire situation if not for the new information—millions in muggle currency converted from the Potter accounts. Even a rent-a-cop knows to follow the money trail. And money is power—for everyone. That kind of interest in the muggle world, especially now of all times, was something he couldn’t ignore.
Fury had the numbers of two of the most powerful people he had ever met—both women—who could personally intervene if the situation with the wizards escalated. But he didn’t want to call Carol back from space. The other was someone who personally knew the Blacks and the Potters.
Diana Prince. Wonder Woman. A demigod. An Amazon of Themyscira.
Even Fury’s ironclad control had slipped when Peggy first introduced the woman to him during his time as deputy—and as the potential future Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., if it ever came to that.
Maybe it was time to introduce her to his own deputy after all, Fury thought as Maria Hill entered his office.
=====================
Nolan Grayson
Nolan had been having a good vacation ever since he came back from his trip to Viltrum and the entire war with the Mad Titan. Even now, sometimes Nolan felt a chill in his spine remembering the ordeal of meeting the Titan and rescuing Conquest.
Debbie had asked many times why he wasn't contacting any world governments, Nolan managed to explain it away as orders from above, and that Earth wasn't ready to know the truth.
Mark was now almost nine, and Nolan thought it was an appropriate age to start showing his Viltrumite powers—at least. But to his happiness, Mark seemed to have no powers at all.
Even though, Nolan had stayed a stay-at-home dad who wrote superhero novels and comics, Mark still ended up being heavily influenced by it.
Even the scientists back on Viltrum couldn’t say what age a half-breed might begin showing his Viltrumite heritage. Nolan used to scan Mark monthly with the Green Lantern ring, and the results were messy. Mark definitely had Viltrumite DNA, but it was constantly clashing with the X-Gene inherited from Debbie. And by the looks of it, the Viltrumite DNA was going to win—completely overpowering the X-Gene.
Nolan had not reported that back to Viltrum, as he didn’t want to think about the future orders that might follow upon hearing that news.
Nolan had been keeping up with his training by flying to other planets in the solar system and grinding through their harsh environments, all while using the Green Lantern ring to add resistance during flight. At first, there was no improvement, but years later, Nolan could feel that he had at least gotten somewhat faster.
It was after one such flight and return to Earth when the ring informed him of something:
"Warning: Huge amount of uncontrolled esoteric energy detected. Proceed with full-powered shielding."
Nolan’s eyes widened slightly at the suggestion of full-powered shielding. He usually didn’t need a shield, but even he acknowledged how powerful a Green Lantern shield was—if your will was strong enough. To overpower it, the energy had to be tremendous, or shredding matter itself.
“Where is it?” Nolan asked.
"Detecting..."
"The energy is from north of the equator and 500 miles from your current location."
Nolan almost flew there immediately before stopping himself. He knew the authorities would be watching the area closely, and having a man fly in would not exactly be inconspicuous. He decided to do nothing for now and started heading home.
"Esoteric energy, huh?" Nolan whispered. "I wonder if it's the same kind as the low cosmic energy Conquest can now absorb and use—after being tortured by it in the hands of Thanos."
=============================
Comments
the batman
well, as of now there is no planned lantern ring power up for harry... lets see where we end up as the story progresses...
Alkole
Damn a lantern ring would make Harry's life easier wonder if u ever plan on him getting one. U seem to have been hinting at harry using Mark greyson as a way to get a viltrumite body while keeping his magic and x-gene wonder if he could integrate some martian in there, would of recommended kryptonian if it wasnt for their massive weakness that everyone seems to know.
