Daniel stood quietly in the bathroom, surrounded by steam and cascading water. Despite it being summer, he had turned the temperature of the hot water all the way up. Droplets pelted against his skin, and instead of discomfort, they brought deep relief.
It had been decades since he last experienced something as simple and human as a hot shower.
Bathing in Jotunheim was near impossible. What would you wash with—ice? In a realm where even the warmest days stayed well below minus sixty degrees Celsius, any water that appeared would freeze solid almost instantly. There was no such thing as warm water. No such thing as comfort.
If not for his magical talents, Daniel likely would've become a permanently frostbitten statue. Life there wasn't kind to those without supernatural protection.
Still, Jotunheim had forged him. His body had adapted. His constitution had been tempered by relentless cold and magical endurance. And most importantly, it was through years of exposure to those punishing conditions that he'd finally broken into the realm of a Legendary Mage.
But all of that was behind him now.
As the water flowed down his scarred, calloused skin, Daniel's thoughts shifted to more pressing concerns—namely, the information he had just gathered from Betty Ross.
He now had a general idea of when he was.
According to her, Tony Stark had been kidnapped in Afghanistan just over half a year ago. A few months later, he escaped and debuted the Mark I Iron Man armor. Since then, Stark had returned to the United States, dismantled his biggest internal threat—Obadiah Stane—and regained full control of Stark Industries.
The upcoming Stark Expo was already being prepared. No notable incidents had occurred yet. With this timeline in mind, Daniel mentally placed himself early in the Marvel Universe's modern chronology—before the major global-scale conflicts began.
While he was in Jotunheim, neither Thor nor Loki had descended upon that realm to stir chaos. Thor's exile to Earth had yet to occur—it might still be a few years away.
But Daniel knew he wouldn't be able to avoid that storm.
No matter how much he tried to steer clear of entanglements, so long as he remained within the Nine Realms, Heimdall would be watching. And the moment he stepped into the path of the Bifrost, he'd be within Thor's reach.
And that? That was dangerous.
"Damn you, Odin," Daniel muttered to himself as the scalding water poured over his face. "Even if you wanted to teach your son a lesson, you didn't have to use the rest of us as tools for your trials."
Thor, the God of Thunder… Daniel had no illusions about his own strength. In Jotunheim, using raw will and borrowed frost magic, he had barely clawed his way to the level of a legendary spellcaster. But here, on Earth—cut off from the dense magical flows of ancient realms—he was only capable of casting magic at the pinnacle of an ordinary mage's power.
He might be able to stand toe-to-toe with someone like Wolverine in a physical confrontation. But against a mental titan like Professor Charles Xavier or a force of nature like Magneto? He'd be lucky to survive a skirmish.
Still, there was one consolation: the magical inertia of Earth worked both ways.
The reason Thor, for all his strength, never appeared far more powerful than Earth's top mutants and metahumans was due to that very same sluggishness in Earth's magical fields. Mjolnir drew on cosmic forces, yes—but much of its power also required tapping into ambient magic. Here on Earth, that power was dulled.
Loki, too, would find his illusion magic less potent. Even Thanos wouldn't be immune to these limitations if he ever arrived early.
But for Daniel, this meant only one thing: he would need to find a way to reawaken his legendary power, even within this stunted magical environment.
That meant acquiring a power source—something primal. Something vast.
The Cosmic Cube came to mind first. Its power had brought him to Jotunheim in the first place. It was immensely powerful… and dangerously elusive.
In the original timeline, the Tesseract had remained under Asgardian oversight for centuries. Even if Daniel could find a way to get close to it again, keeping it permanently would be next to impossible.
He would need alternatives.
The Mind Stone, delivered to Earth via Loki's scepter.
The Reality Stone, still sealed within temporal fissures across the cosmos.
The Power Stone, hidden far from Earth but accessible with the right timing.
The Time Stone, perhaps the most difficult of all—it was already protected, perhaps even wielded, by the Sorcerer Supreme.
He had to keep his eyes open.
Even Earth-born alternatives could suffice—at least temporarily. The faster-than-light engine that birthed Captain Marvel. The Arc Reactor prototype Tony Stark developed to mimic the Cube's energy signature. These things were possible to obtain, especially if Daniel played the long game.
And with the Stark Expo coming soon, he might get his first real opportunity.
But before any of that, Daniel needed to handle the situation outside. There was no more doubt—Betty Ross was indeed that Betty Ross. A photograph on her desk showed her and General Ross standing side-by-side. The man's uniform left no room for misidentification.
So why didn't she remember Bruce Banner?
Something was wrong.
It wasn't just selective memory loss. Someone—or something—had tampered with her mind. Daniel could sense it. As a master of the arcane, especially of mental and soul magic, he needed no deep ritual to detect it. Just a light brush of his awareness had revealed a hidden fracture within her soul's memory structure.
It was deliberate.
Bruce Banner had vanished years ago. If he had still been in the United States, Betty would've been under constant surveillance by military intelligence. But now? She remembered nothing. Not even fragments.
Her father, General Ross, had likely done this. Perhaps in an effort to give his daughter a peaceful life. Perhaps to cut her final tie to the man who had become the Hulk.
Daniel didn't know where Banner was now. Maybe still hiding in Nepal or deep within India, as S.H.I.E.L.D. would eventually discover. It didn't matter. That wasn't Daniel's priority.
Right now, he needed to recover his identity. And more importantly… reclaim everything he had left behind.
By the time Daniel emerged from the bathroom, steam still clinging to his skin, he found a clean shirt and shorts laid neatly on the living room table. They were men's clothes.
"My ex-boyfriend's," Betty said, arms crossed, her tone unreadable. "I hope you leave as soon as possible."
Daniel glanced at the clothes, then at her.
After shaving, trimming his wild beard, and cleaning up, his face had returned to something almost… normal. He wasn't traditionally handsome, but his rugged features, athletic build, and intense eyes held their own appeal. He was certainly no less striking than her previous boyfriend.
Betty's feelings were a mix of regret and confusion. She still couldn't quite believe she'd brought a complete stranger back to her apartment. That wasn't something she ever did.
Daniel simply smirked. "No problem. I'll leave. But first—I need to make a call."
He stepped toward the phone.
Betty moved aside, but her curiosity overpowered her hesitation. "Can I ask you a few questions?"
Daniel shrugged. "Ask away."
Truthfully, she was only tolerating him because of the magic. Even though her memories of Bruce Banner had been stripped, something inside her still resonated with the concept of solving "his" problem.
Sooner or later, those memories might resurface. But even if they did, there could be no future for them. Banner's condition meant he could never lead a normal life. And Betty? She was only human.
Betty was still deep in thought when she blurted, "Are you really a magician? Was that man from earlier a magician too? Can you… can you teach me?"
Daniel's brow lifted. "You're too old."
He reached for the phone, ignoring her offended gasp.
"No woman likes hearing that," Betty snapped, crossing her arms. "You just killed all your mysterious charm."
"How old are you, anyway?" she challenged, eyes narrowing.
Daniel chuckled, dialing a number on the keypad. "Older than you by a lot. Don't even think about it."
The tone buzzed in his ear.
This number… this line… it connected to his third contingency.
Before being whisked away to Jotunheim, Daniel had arranged multiple layers of assets. One set was managed publicly through a front-facing agent. Another was buried in the Arctic Ocean, hidden on an uninhabited island and overseen by a separate network.
But this call? This went to the deepest, most secure fallback. A cell Daniel had created for absolute worst-case scenarios. They didn't control much, but they held knowledge—and leverage. They could infiltrate the other factions if needed. They couldn't betray him even if they wanted to. He'd sealed every path of escape, hedged every bet.
The phone continued to ring.
No answer.
Daniel lowered the receiver. He'd try again later.
Just then, he realized something: Betty was no longer in the room. A soft sound echoed from behind the bathroom door.
Running water.
Of course. She'd been soaked from head to toe when they met in the rain. It made sense she'd want to wash up.
But Daniel… he was still a man.
A man who hadn't seen a woman in decades.
His thoughts wandered—just for a moment.
Then he shook them off.
He had bigger things to worry about.
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