The Magus In Marvel

In a vast expanse stretching endlessly in all directions, reality itself seems to unravel and recombine. At its center stands a towering, luminous tree, its translucent bark pulsing with the energy of countless timelines. Each branch splinters into infinity, each leaf flickering with glimpses of alternate worlds. Beneath its roots, vast shimmering webs of energy spread across the ground, representing the interconnected strands of existence—constantly shifting and realigning.

Above, the sky swirls with cosmic light, galaxies being born and dying in the blink of an eye, while the distant hum of vibrating realities fills the air with a deep, omnipresent power. Amidst this chaos, there is calm—a throne forged from the very essence of time itself, adorned with intricate patterns of runes and vines, glowing softly in the midst of the infinite.

Seated upon this throne is a lone figure, his silhouette illuminated by the cosmic glow, a crown-like shimmer around his horns, his robes flowing like liquid starlight. His eyes glow with the weight of the multiverse, gazing upon the endless possibilities before him. He is now the master of time and space, holding the fate of countless realities in his hands. But he is not alone.

Another man stands before him. From his outward appearance, he seems to be in his sixties, though his youthful expressions betray an age that is difficult to pinpoint. His features are Germanic, his once-blond hair now turned gray, swept back in a disheveled but controlled manner. He has the posture of a seasoned military man—upright, commanding, and unwavering. At 190 cm tall and well-built, he exudes both authority and mystery.

The figure upon the throne narrows his glowing eyes.

"Kaleidoscope… what brings you here?"

The visitor, known to many as Zelretch, spreads his arms in mock innocence. "Now, now, Loki, don't give me that look. My intentions are completely righteous."

Loki, God of Mischief and now the supreme overseer of time's delicate balance, leans forward slightly, his expression unreadable. "Playing tricks on the God of Mischief might not be your best idea."

Zelretch smirks. "Would I ever do such a thing?" He gestures toward a particular branch of the grand tree—one that hangs out separately, disconnected from the vast structure of the timeline yet showing no signs of decay.

Loki's gaze flickers toward it, his frown deepening. "I suppose this is about that particular branch, isn't it?"

"Hey, come on now," Zelretch says, holding up his hands as if caught in the middle of a misunderstanding. "It's not like it's my fault that a multiversal portal just happened to open at the perfect moment, connecting directly to the Root, saving a withering timeline by anchoring itself there. I would never do something like that." His grin widens. "Intentionally, anyway."

Loki exhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You meddle far too often, Wizard."

Zelretch chuckles. "And you pretend you don't enjoy the chaos. But let's be honest, isn't this a fascinating anomaly?"

The branch in question pulses faintly, an oddity in an otherwise meticulously maintained structure. Unlike the other threads of reality, it should not exist—yet it persists, defying all logic, untouched by decay or pruning. A paradox made manifest.

Loki's fingers drum against the armrest of his throne as he contemplates the implications. "This should not be possible. No timeline survives severance from the greater weave."

"And yet," Zelretch says, pointing at the branch, "this one does. The reason should be obvious."

Loki's eyes flicker with realization. "Because it was never meant to end."

Zelretch nods. "Exactly. And now, it has become something else entirely." His gaze turns serious for the first time. "You know what this means, don't you?"

Loki leans back in his throne, his expression unreadable. "Yes. It means our game is about to get much more interesting."

..................

A month had passed since Rin's visit to the New York Sanctum, and the entire fiasco with Killian had been shut down before it could even begin. Tony, ever the meticulous billionaire, had started looking into the Extremis project after Rin had warned him about it. With Stark Enterprises' full legal force bearing down on him and the virus still incomplete, Killian never stood a chance. Not to mention, his history of conducting illegal human experiments didn't exactly earn him any leniency. The result? A swift and merciless takedown that ensured he wouldn't be a problem for a very, very long time.

With Killian neutralized and no immediate crises looming, Rin finally had the breathing room to prepare for the upcoming Winter Soldier events. She knew better than to handle this alone—Stark was definitely coming with her. She had a few ideas on how to tweak certain key moments, and having Stark's tech—and his sheer unpredictability—on her side would be invaluable.

As she was contemplating her next move, suddenly, a man in a tight-fitting red and black tactical suit with a distinctive half-mask, featuring white eye patches and various pouches for weapons, jumps out of a glowing portal right in the middle of Stark Tower.

"Hey, I'm looking for a guy!" he announces loudly. "He's short, muscle-bound, got a ton of facial hair—looks like he just walked out of a lumberjack convention, wearing a leather jacket that's seen better days. Oh, and these freaky metal claws pop out of his knuckles like he's auditioning to be a human Swiss Army knife. Kinda need him to save my world."

He pauses, looks around, and exclaims, "Oh, f***, this is the wrong place."

Then, he turns toward Rin, squinting slightly before suddenly looking past her—at no one in particular.

"Yeah, yeah, no need to cheer due to my presence. I know, I know, I'm the best! Now, before the author cuts off my scene, let's ask a question that makes my presence worth it."

He points directly at Rin, who looks completely stupefied by the manic energy of the man who just appeared out of nowhere.

"Hey, girl," he smirks. "Who do you prefer—Archer or Shirou?"

Caught off guard, Rin instinctively answers, "Archer...?"

Immediately, Deadpool pulls out a handful of confetti and throws it in the air. "Congratulations! Your wish will be granted!"

Then, without another word, he jumps back into the portal, disappearing as suddenly as he arrived, leaving a completely dumbfounded Rin standing there.

A second later, his masked head pops back out of the portal. "Oh, by the way, I didn't specify which Archer—just that you know him."

And then, just like that, he disappears again.

Rin stares at the now-empty space in front of her, utterly lost for words.

"What the actual hell just happened?