Marvel's Hogwarts Professor

In the vast, uncharted depths of the universe, an unknown purple planet loomed against the starry void. Its surface was rugged, dotted with jagged mountains and chasms that exuded an eerie, otherworldly glow. Hovering above this desolate landscape was a colossal, black, alien battleship—an instrument of terror and conquest.

Inside the battleship, a large, ominous chamber dominated the command deck. The walls, painted a stark black, absorbed all light, casting an oppressive shadow over the room. High-tech panels and displays, typically buzzing with activity, were dormant, giving way to a solemn and foreboding atmosphere.

At the end of the chamber stood a massive obsidian throne, stark in its simplicity but immense in size. It perfectly suited its occupant, the warlord Thanos.

Thanos sat in regal stillness, his posture that of a thinker lost in contemplation. Clad in golden-blue armor, his immense frame radiated power. His battle-worn helmet adorned with faintly glowing gemstones sat atop his head, completing his imposing appearance.

The Titan's skin was a deep purple, marred by lines and creases that resembled the grooves of a weathered stone. Most striking, however, were his piercing blue eyes, animalistic in their intensity, yet eerily calm.

Before him stood Loki, the trickster god of Asgard, his lean frame draped in emerald and gold. A tall, golden horned helmet crowned his head, enhancing his already theatrical presence. Loki clutched the glowing scepter of the Mind Stone, its blue light casting eerie shadows across his sharp features.

"Dear Lord of the Dark Order," Loki began, his tone dripping with mockery and arrogance. "I, Loki Odinson, son of Odin and the rightful ruler of the Nine Realms, pledge my loyalty to our agreement. Your army shall assist me in seizing Midgard, and in return, I will deliver the Space Stone into your hands."

Thanos inclined his head slightly, acknowledging Loki's declaration without deigning to speak. His silence was cutting, a display of his disdain for Loki's theatrics.

Loki's smirk faltered for a moment, his confidence wavering under the Titan's unyielding gaze. But he quickly masked his discomfort, bowing deeply before striding out of the chamber.

As Loki made his way through the battleship, his thoughts churned with bitterness.

Arrogant brute, Loki fumed. Once I hold the throne of Midgard and the power of the Tesseract, the first to fall will be Thanos and his wretched Chitauri.

A shadow of malice crossed Loki's face as he envisioned the humiliation of the Titan's minions, particularly Ebony Maw. The sycophantic servant's patronizing remarks had not gone unnoticed, and Loki vowed to exact his revenge in due time.

Elsewhere, on Earth, the S.H.I.E.L.D. Cosmic Cube Research Base hummed with activity.

In the central research office, the Tesseract—an indigo cube that shimmered with an ethereal glow—floated mid-air, defying gravity. Its presence distorted the surrounding space, rippling reality like water disturbed by a stone.

Dr. Erik Selvig, clad in his customary white lab coat, observed the Tesseract intently. His brow furrowed as he gave instructions to the team of researchers bustling around him.

"Begin the thirty-sixth experiment," Selvig ordered. "Tungsten rod contact test."

Nearby, twelve robotic arms extended toward the cube. Four of them raised tungsten rods, which moved steadily closer to the glowing artifact.

The result was instantaneous.

As soon as the rods came within 90 centimeters of the Tesseract, they disintegrated into ash. Fine white powder scattered to the floor, a grim testament to the artifact's destructive energy.

Selvig sighed heavily, gesturing for an assistant to log the results. "Failed again," he muttered. "The energy field surrounding the Tesseract is impenetrable. Begin preparations for the thirty-seventh test—magic-assisted touch."

The mechanical arms retracted, their configurations shifting to reveal glowing conduits. Purple energy began to swirl at their tips, a crude attempt to replicate the magical forces Selvig had encountered.

Selvig's fascination with magic had deepened ever since his first encounter with Lockhart in New Mexico. The physicist-turned-mystic marveled at the phenomenon, describing it as energy imbued with purpose—a living, breathing force.

As the researchers prepared the next experiment, Selvig cast a wistful glance at the Tesseract. The artifact's secrets eluded him, and its erratic behavior over the past weeks had become a cause for concern.

The sound of hurried footsteps pulled him from his thoughts.

Nick Fury entered the lab, flanked by Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, and Agent Sitwell. Fury's one good eye swept across the room, taking in the controlled chaos of the researchers and the ominous glow of the Tesseract.

"Dr. Selvig," Fury greeted, his tone calm but urgent. "Do we have an update?"

Selvig approached quickly, his movements agitated. "Director, I need more information about the Tesseract. The myths suggest it was Odin's 'Dragon's Jewel,' capable of manipulating space itself. But these anomalies... they're beyond anything we've seen."

Fury nodded, gesturing for Natasha to step forward.

"The Dragon's Jewel is said to harness infinite energy and grant its wielder dominion over space," Natasha explained. "According to records in the World of Vientiane, Odin used it to conquer the Nine Realms. It's possible the Tesseract's recent behavior relates to these spatial properties."

Selvig's expression shifted as realization dawned. "Space manipulation... that explains the material disintegration! We've been treating this as an energy-based phenomenon, but the Tesseract is distorting localized space."

Turning to his team, Selvig barked new orders. "Activate the space confinement array immediately. We'll need maximum intensity around the Tesseract!"

As the researchers scrambled to comply, a faint hum emanated from the Tesseract. Its glow intensified, the indigo light deepening into a vibrant, almost menacing hue. Strange runes flickered across its surface, their alien symbols defying comprehension.

Clint Barton instinctively drew his bow, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Director, something's happening," he warned.

Before Fury could respond, the Tesseract erupted with energy. A blinding blue light engulfed the room, and when it receded, a new figure stood at its center.

Loki.

Clad in his golden armor and horned helmet, the trickster god held the glowing scepter aloft. His wicked grin spread across his face as he addressed the stunned onlookers.

"People of Midgard," he declared, his voice echoing through the chamber. "Your future king has returned."

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