Chapter 2: Expository Suppository Deuce

Acarius Aediath was in freefall.

At least, that was the only feeling that could be comparable to what was happening to him presently. He had no body, no sense of self or direction, yet he was falling in this massive void, watching as things he didn't recognize or understand flew past him. Intellectually, he knew that he was incorporeal now, but he still fought the urge to vomit as the barrage of images and colors assaulted his vision. He saw a red-haired man holding a crystal sword as a crowd kneeled in front of him, a dark figure with an impossibly large blade slaughtering horrid abominations he could only associate with the Daedra.

A thousand worlds he didn't know, creatures he didn't know, truths that he couldn't know.

One truth that he couldn't know, but knew anyway.

As the Nirnling spiraled toward his inevitable destination, he once more lost consciousness.

When the elf woke once more, the first thing he felt was pain. It was the blessedly simple pain of physical abuse, something he was intimately familiar with. Nowhere near the pain inflicted on him in that dungeon, it wasn't worth staying on the ground over. Nevertheless, as his emerald eyes opened and he attempted to get up, his body betrayed him immediately. All attempts to pick himself off the hard ground he found himself on was met with a natural refusal to move from his battered body. Even moving his eyes to the side was taxing, he found, so he focused straight ahead. He was on his side, a position that made the old wounds on said side ache, and looking at a stone wall. It was night currently, and it recently rained by the slight sheen on the stone.

As he examined the dark stone of the building in front of him, he heard the sound of a door opening. Two sets of footsteps rushed toward him, causing the mage to instinctively tense up. Instead of a boot or a knife meeting his flesh, he felt a soft pair of hands, presumably female, checking his body for wounds. A stronger set of hands turned him over, giving him a view of the figures accosting him. They were both human, Breton perhaps, a male and female. It didn't take great insight to see the obvious concern on their faces, which made the mage relax somewhat.

His presumed saviors began speaking to each other in a tongue he didn't recognize, although it was clear they were rushed. The larger male picked up his prone form, much to his discomfort, and headed for the door they came from. Looking behind him as he was carried like a sack of potatoes, he could see that he was in an alley, definitely in a city by the architecture. He couldn't recognize the buildings, and something about them looked strange to him, but it was too dark to say what. Too exhausted to put more thought into it, he allowed the humans to take him away. Sleep found him once more.

The next place he awake to was a bed, thankfully without restraints attached. Sitting up, he saw that he was in someone's home, by the mundane furniture scattered about. A younger couple, in he had to guess. Everything was different to Skyrim, or even Cyrodil, however. Black devices of some sort sat atop some of the furniture, the make of the furniture, and the too-clean white walls were alien to him. Still not convinced of his safety, he resolved to get up and find answers.

Unlike in that alley, his body was finally obeying his commands and the pain was much more bearable. His legs swung over the bed, and he heaved himself to his feet. It was then that he ate proverbial shit as his legs refused to hold his weight, sending him tumbling to the ground. The couple which saved (or possibly kidnapped) him must have heard the commotion, for a door on the far side of the room opened, revealing the same two Bretons. Once more, his ears were assaulted by that unknown language, much to his annoyance.

From his position on the floor, he surreptitiously cast Tongues with his right hand just as the petite brunette woman reached him. She was speaking, and as the spell took hold on him, the strange words quickly became ones he understood. "-going to injure yourself, sir. Please, get in bed."

Her larger, dark-haired partner helped him to his feet before she ushered him back into the soft bed. The mage complied, if only to satisfy the protests of his back. As he got back into the comfortable prison, he managed to ask, "Where am I, ma'am? What city?"

The gruff-looking man answered in her stead, "You are in St. Petersburg. How can you not know what city you're in? We found you collapsed in an alley in the center of the city."

Acarius masked his worry with a grateful smile. Between the language he heard, the architecture he briefly saw, and the city name, a very unpleasant picture was being painted here. Deciding to play it safe, he quickly formed a deception that was hopefully believable to these people. "Ah, that's right, I was trying to find the library when I was attacked. I got away, but fell unconscious at some point."

It was a good lie, in his opinion. Every city had a library, every city had crime, and he could play the scared little scarred elf if he had to. He turned up his smile for good measure and added, "Please, you must let me pay you for your kindness."

The couple looked at each other before the woman raised her hand, saying "Oh, there's no need, sir. We were just worried that you might be a Hero in trouble, so we called the police as soon as we found you. That won't be a problem, right?"

A test. Thinking quickly, he nodded and said, "I'm not a Hero or anything, ma'am, just a traveler. I should probably speak to the police anyway. I didn't see my attackers, but I did hear a name. Sorry to inconvenience you."

It was apparent that he said the right words when the man visibly relaxed and replied, "Bah, there's no point in filing a report. Crime's been higher than ever and they can't do shit. Everyone's saying the Bratva's making moves again, so the cops are scared."

Acarius nodded, making a show of sighing and letting out an "Oh well" before pointing to himself. "I don't wanna get involved in anything like that. Just wanted to see the library before heading to the next town. Speaking of, did those pricks leave any of my belongings?"

The brunette nodded and headed further into the house, returning a minute later with his knapsack and his sword, to his displeasure. He thought the ebony shortsword was tucked away in Oblivion, and it made him look even more suspicious than he did before. He breathed a sigh of relief before getting out of bed again, confident in his legs this time. "I can't thank you enough, you two. That blade is a family heirloom. Many would have left me in that alley, I'm sure. I don't want to use up anymore of your hospitality, so I think I'll be on my way."

He thanked his luck once more as they nodded and led him out of the building, back into the alley he came from. They said their goodbyes to the strange foreigner who spoke their language fluently. One said foreigner left that alley, he realized that "foreign" was a severe understatement for the sight before him. It was nearly dawn, but it was still dark out, making the city before him stand out even more. There were buildings as tall as the White Gold Tower in the Imperial City everywhere. Some, he thought might even be as wall as the Direnni Tower, although he had never seen it before himself. The darkness contrasted heavily with the bright lights emanating from the many windows of said buildings, as if the stars were brought down to earth. The normally stolid elf found himself openly gaping at the majesty of this alien city.

The architecture was something he imagined to see in the afterlife for the honored dead, not for mere mortals such as himself. Still, he knew that he was in a mortal land as he observed the commonalities to the dwellings he was used to. Trash still littered the streets, and he knew for sure that crime still occurred in this place. As he admired the sights and became lost in his thoughts, a pair of bright lights came into his view, attached to what he could only describe as a Dwemer wet dream. The strange device was going faster than a normal person could ever hope to, and he spotted a man in the front compartment of the metal contraption, confirming it to be some kind of horseless carriage. Amazing.

After regaining his composure, the elf decided to make his lies a reality. He needed to capitalize on Tongues and locate a library as quickly as possible. Heading down a random street looking for anyone to question, he found the the city was still quite populated despite it being so late. Most people he talked to were human, though with some strange hair colors that he had never seen before. Others looked to be from some races that he didn't know. For the love of Talos, one man had a fish head on a human body. People tended to want to stop conversing with him as soon as possible, and Acarius could understand why. His robes didn't match the fashion of this region, wherever that is, at all. Coupled with his scars and demeanor, he probably looked suspicious to this population. A change in plan was necessary.

The arcanist ducked into a nearby alley and raised his hands to cast another spell on himself. Disguise Self was an advanced Alteration spell that physically changed the properties of the desired target, although with certain limitations. He retained his height, but his robes became a business suit that matched the types he saw on some of the men. Scars disappeared from his face, and his hood vanished into the neck of the suit. With some hesitation, he sent his sword and pack to the same plane as the Staff of Magnus, countering his need to be prepared with blending in. This should be much more presentable to the populace. Leaving the alley, he went in search of books once more.

Disguise Self did its job immaculately, as people he spoke to were much more relaxed around him, giving him directions to the National Library. It seemed there was a notable landmark of a library in the city, making his asking about it that much less suspicious. Hopefully, its recognition equated to more information for the lost mage. Eventually, he dug through the multitudes of street names that he didn't recognize, and couldn't read for that matter, and made his way down a street that led straight to the National Library. Acarius passed by several storefronts on this street, immaculate windows covered in posters and signs. He stopped to read some of the signs, so maybe see if this language could be deciphered easily.

Like everything else in the place, it was totally alien to the mage. He was dismayed to find that the characters of this language looked unlike any Tamrielic language he had ever seen. It was giving him terrible flashbacks to himself and Tolfdir bashing their heads against the wall attempting to study the Eye of Magnus. And this language didn't even look anything like that enigma. Oddly enough, he thought he recognize some grammatical marks, used perhaps in a similar way to basic Tamrielic. Other than that, there weren't any similarities to the multitude of languages he knew. Sighing, he continued on down the street toward his destination. This wasn't as bad as it could have been. Lost, he may be, but he was in a city. Plans began forming in his mind as he crossed the street, careful to avoid those strange vehicles that were so damn fast. Finally, he reached base of the massive building.

It was immaculate. This structure was built in a completely different style than most of these other buildings, a pearly white that was harshly juxtaposed to the dark stone that permeated the general look of the city so far. It was wider than it was tall, also different than many of these other places, and seemed to be treated with much more respect. This was definitely a landmark of some kind, most likely older than much of the city. Good, all the less suspicious for an outsider to be visiting.

He climbed a small set of stairs and opened the doors to the cultural center, making his way inside quickly. What greeted the mage was the largest selection of literature he had ever seen in one place. It easily dwarfed his precious Arcaneum. Oh, if Urag could be here with him...he might never come back home. Shaking his head slightly, he approached the front desk, preparing a small deception.

Said desk was being manned by an elderly woman who was frankly nondescript compared to the strange sights he was exposed to today. He put on his friendliest smile and spoke to he attendant, "Hello there. I'm writing a paper on various cultures' folklores, and was hoping you could point me to some children's literature. I'm new to the city, and have never seen this library before."

The old bag actually looked him up and down before letting out a "Hmm" and replying, "There should be plenty of material for your 'paper' in 5B."

Pointedly ignoring the rudeness, he acted oblivious and thanked the crone before heading over to the endless rows of bookshelves. Though he couldn't actually read any of the signs here, figuring out the organizational structure was child's play. Soon, he headed to what he figured to be 5B, and knew he was in the right place when the spines of the books became much thinner and more colorful. Clearly for children.

Time to work.

His plan was simple, and also probably doomed to fail. Said plan was essentially to find the simplest and dumbest picture books he could, the kind you would give to especially slow Nord children, then guess exactly what the narration of said illustration would be. He would then make a Tamrielic translation of that guess, and reverse engineer the alphabet from that. Of course, there were a million things that could go wrong with this method, but it was his only option for discreetly learning this land's language. Kidnapping and torturing someone to read a children's book to him would be a new low that he wasn't ready to face. Not to mention the risk of having the law set upon him. No, this horrid idea was the only feasible method. Carefully drawing his pack from his plane of Oblivion, he brought out a journal and began his task.

An hour passed, and Acarius began to sorely miss Urag gro-Shub. That grumpy orc was the most gifted linguist that he had ever met, and his talent would have been greatly appreciated in this tedious endeavor. Urag could probably reverse engineer the whole language from this library's information within a week. As it stands, it would take him several days to get anything concrete from this. And there was only one way to check his work, embarrassing as it was.

Several more hours passed, and he left the library with a notebook full of children's limericks, observations about the physical properties of fruit, and other garbage that he never thought would take his time and effort. About two hours ago, he thought he had something going, realizing that the language's structure was similar to Aldmeri in a lot of ways. From there, he successfully created his best guess of the foreign alphabet, and found that it was starting to match his earlier guesses. That really pushed him on, and he hit a decent groove in the work, making the progress that he thought would take days in a couple of hours instead. Now, there was only one way to see if he did all that for nothing. He ripped a page of his notebook into strips, each strip containing his recreation of a basic sentence using the new language.

From the library, he took off down a random street, looking for some pedestrian on the sidewalk to talk to. He found a young Imperial-looking woman walking south with her eyes glued to some strange black device. A fine target. Making sure no one was watching, he cast Tongues once again and approached her. "Excuse me, miss, but could you help me with something? My friend passed me this note, but I can't read this handwriting. Could you read it for me, please?"

She looked justifiably apprehensive at first, but his disguise did its job, and she took the note from him. Glancing at it for a second, she handed it back to him, saying "It says 'The book is red'."

He thanked her and watched as she walked off, letting out a sigh of relief as she left his field of vision. It was correct. The probability of that was remarkably low, but his guess about Aldmeri structure payed off. From here, the work should go much faster. Acarius Aediath had been called a genius his whole life, but it never really meant anything to him while living in the shadow of his sister. His intellect was finally paying dividends now, in this foreign land.

After taking a moment to himself, he headed back into the library. There was work to be done, if he had any chance of returning home.

Eventually, night came, and he was booted from the library by that cleverly-disguised Hagraven at the front desk. Once he was on the street again, Acarius began a quest to find short-term shelter. Even though he was on the right track, it would still take the elf a couple of weeks to give him a grasp of this language that was adequate enough to let him pass as just a foreigner. He was going to head to that library every day until he could honestly read any of the books within it. From there, it would be time to begin his research in earnest. Now, though, he needed to sleep.

After wandering around the city for several hours, he came upon what he thought might be an abandoned industrial district. It was packed with machinery that he didn't recognize, and most of the buildings looked like they were about to be condemned. One looked in slightly better shape than the others, seemingly recently abandoned. It was a single story building, much smaller than the multitude of establishments he saw prior. A quick use of Detect Life revealed it to be completely empty as well. As good a place as any to sleep, he decided. Eventually, he found a building that he declared suitable, making sure to put an Alarm spell around every entrance, just in case something nosed around. From there, he lay down on the uncomfortable concrete floor of an abandoned office, and drifted off into a necessary sleep.

Your free will is an illusion. Whether you acknowledge me or not is your own business, but I will be in your mind...

Acarius jumped from his prone position like a bullet, several spells covering him in an instant, as he nearly shot a thunderbolt from his right hand.

At nothing.

There was nothing here, and his alarm spell was intact. What even woke him? Why'd he feel such a danger as to leap out of bed like a moron?

Suddenly, he felt something drawing him outside, into the dark night of the city. He complied with the compulsion, walking out of his makeshift housing, to peer at the night sky. As he stared at that deep, dark abyss above him, he realized two things. There were no stars in this sky, for whatever reason. It was emptiness, save for the moon. The moon. The single, pearly white moon. Not Masser, not Secunda. Just a moon.

This wasn't Nirn.

As, the mage dragged himself back into that shelter, he didn't acknowledge the emptiness he felt in his chest, or the thoughts that welled up in his head. Nor did he acknowledge that he awoke after two hours of sleep, scared by nothing at all as if his life was in danger. He ignored that itch in the back of his head urging him to remember something. Instead, he lay back down on the concrete and slept once more.

Morning came, and Acarius Aediath was angry. Furious, even. He awoke promptly at sunrise, as he has done every morning since he was 14, and recounted the events of the prior night. The revelation that he wasn't on Nirn was shocking, but more than that, it was irritating.

Was this what happened to the Dwemer when Kagrenac used his tools on the Heart of Lorkhan? Was this what happened to Arniel after he messed with those convectors? Did he just solve the greatest mystery of Tamriel by shooting a lich with a magic he doesn't even understand?

Would he ever fulfill that promise? Would he ever have that drink with the Dragonborn? Did that even matter in the face of an actual alien world?

There was only one solution to the problem, and that was knowledge. If he ever wanted to see his home again, he would have to learn everything this world has to offer, and use it to do the impossible. The Staff of Magnus found its way out of his pocket realm and into his hand. He stared at the Aedric staff for a long minute. Maybe with the Staff it would be possible. With the Staff of Magnus, perhaps anything was possible. Aetherius and Oblivion were still available resources to him, as evidenced by the fact that he can still use magic and his pocket spell still works. Could he try to summon an unbound Dremora and find a Sigil Stone? Frankly, he doesn't have the skill to summon a dremora, unbound or not. Conjuration magic was not his specialty at all, apart from a bound weapon or his pocket realm.

He still didn't know what connection this world had with Nirn, if they had magic at all, or if they were using tonal manipulation like the Dwemer. What a fucking disaster.

That library contained the answers, it had to. Seeing no other choice, he went to explore the city once more, before the library opened. The city was a maze of streets and buildings that he wasn't used to at all. He hadn't been in a proper city for almost a decade at this point, and comparing the likes of Cyrodil or Solitude to this place was almost insulting. Nonetheless, he made sure to memorize every single alley, and every street sign that he couldn't read.

Hours passed, and Acarius had memorized dozens of streets, alleys, buildings that he could guess the purposes of, and other locations within the labyrinthine city. With his studying done, he found his back through to the library he previously visited...to do more studying.

That night, the elf had another major breakthrough in his work, once more making him that much closer to competent literacy. Putting up with that shriveled old draugr at the counter was made much easier with the realization that no one on Nirn could be that bad.

And for several months, events continued in this way. The otherworldly wizard spent almost all day in the library, gaining aptitude for this new language, which he learned to be "Russian" at an impressive rate. His hours outside the library were spent finding new shelters should his current one be compromised, and getting a better feel for the city. When he could actually read the signs on buildings with little effort, his exploration increased substantially.

Learning to actually speak this Russian language was a whole other endeavor that he was gaining proficiency in with, but he could use Tongues to cheat whenever the matter was important. Money was another issue that eventually popped up and then was solved almost immediately. It turned out that gold was a very valuable commodity in this world, and the coins he toted on the regular were actually worth a fortune, assuming he could get people to buy them.

With that information, he found his way to several pawn shops, who would usually buy small amounts gold with no questions asked as long as it was unmarked. Whether this was legal or not wasn't entirely clear to him, but the currency he obtained was put to good use. Food to eat, places to bathe, and other such necessities took care of themselves at that point, leaving him less problems to distract him from his research goals.

And speaking of his research...

There was a plethora of information on almost any subject one could think of in his library, which he learned was the National Library of Russia. The mage spent his time learning geography, history, and social norms of the country he accidentally found himself intruding in. When he sufficiently learned all he could about his immediate surroundings, he worked his way out. Earth was a similar size to Nirn, but it felt so much larger than his homeworld due to the multitude of densely packed continents that comprised it, compared to Nirn having Tamriel and Akavir being the only known populated continents left.

Earth also had no magic, as he quickly learned. Well, technically Earth had magic, but no one could use it. His connection to Aetherius felt no different on this alien planet compared to how it did on Nirn, so clearly he wasn't totally cut off from the intrinsic forces of the universe. However, no one on Earth knew about the Aedra or Daedra, instead worshipping many deities across many cultures. And unlike with the Divines, there was simply no proof of any of these other gods actually existing, leaving religion as a pure construct of faith (and sometimes corruption). Baffling.

Anyway, the point was that this lack of knowledge of the Divines or Aetherius meant that no one here channeled its energies for their own purposes, instead relying on creativity and spirit that the races of Man seemed to have no matter what planet they inhabit. The technological force that humans developed on this planet was astonishing compared to their accomplishments on Nirn, all while lacking magic, no less. At least, this lack of magic was true for most of human history on this planet. That brought him to his current thoughts on Earth having "magic". Earth doesn't need magic, as it has something much more bizarre to weaponize.

Quirks.

Strange powers given to people seemingly randomly, and the prevailing force used in almost every country of the modern world. They started as a strange anomaly, but spread quickly throughout the decades, making Quirked people the overwhelming majority of the world population. Initially, the thought of 80% of the population having powers that rivaled his was actually quite terrifying, but he learned that most Quirks were frankly useless. There were many simple mutation Quirks, accounting for the very diverse looks and strange features he saw amongst the populace in these months, and many that were extremely one-note and lacked power. The word "Quirk" fit very well as to the nature of these abilities.

However, there were always exceptions to the rules.

Some Quirks did rival his magical abilities, and other completely dwarfed them. A prime example of that was the Hero named All Might in the country of Japan. The elf saw video footage (something that will never cease to amaze him) of the Hero performing feats of physical prowess that would be unheard of in Tamriel, all to save the populace with almost no reward. Seeing a man with the power to snap armies acting with the humility to save kittens from trees was something that brought out two emotions that he considered almost foreign. Awe and hope.

This world didn't contain an Aldmeri Dominion. There wasn't a fine line between peace and war that was crossed every two decades, all to satisfy the selfish ambitions of people like Ulfric Stormcloak and his own family. Earth certainly still had strife, as Quirks bred selfish individuals who would abuse their powers just as it bred men like All Might. However, seeing the crime on television didn't bring the same disgust and shame of hearing about the Thalmor's latest crimes against humanity.

Even the country he stood in was once considered a "bad guy" of the world stage, multiple times in the history he read, but the government's biggest critics now complain about lack of action against organized crime, not oppressive regimes that starve their families. All of this actually made him feel really good about the state of this planet, but it was probably a bias of his long lifespan. He was 227 years old, which was longer than the time that Quirks existed. Reading about hundreds of years of human history was still within his potential lifespan, so of course he thought it was great progress. Humans themselves probably think of these struggles as taking up an impossibly long amount of time, with their lifespans being about the tenth of an altmer's.

Acarius Aediath didn't have a Quirk. He was an experienced practitioner of the arcane arts. A master of the schools of Destruction and Alteration. However, to fit into this strange world of Quirks and technology, he would have to shed those titles and obtain a "Quirk" for cover. It shouldn't prove too difficult, as not everything about Quirks was understood yet, and his abilities were very fine-tuned, allowing him to hide any aspect of them if he chooses. An idea about his fake Quirk began forming in his brain, but he would need to do a lot more research on physics to pull it off. Speaking of, it shouldn't be left unsaid that the mage was very happy with the state of science in this world. Making these kinds of advances in chemistry and physics without magic, and performing these feats of engineering without Dwemer tonal manipulation, was amazing.

Seeing all of that makes him think that Tamriel could become a much better place if its denizens could stop killing each other for a century or two. Not likely to happen with the Dominion in such a favorable position, and the Empire being pressured as it is. Another Great War was probably only a decade or two away. As if the first one wasn't "Great" enough. Seeing real war for the first time, it proved as the catalyst of his eventually defection from the Thalmor. A horrible experience that he wouldn't wish on any sentient being.

He didn't have to fight any wars here, though. What he needed was to find a way back to his planet. More research on astronomy would be a good start, and he needed a stable income. If that astronomy route bore no fruits, then he would begin looking into Quirks that could get him home. He read a small passage about Warp Quirks that admitted that people knew almost next to nothing on how they worked and why. Perhaps a suitably strong Warp Quirk could prove to be his doorway home, with the right training and guidance.

And so the wizard began to subvert all expectations once more by reading some books. Unfortunately, after reading all he could on modern astronomy, he couldn't find a single thing on Nirn. In fact, he couldn't really find any large catalogue of known planets. When he swallowed his pride and asked that pruned Daedroth at the front desk, she looked at him like he was the dumbest lifeform she had ever seen and replied, "Use the internet."

Internet. Right.

Up until now, he had been actively avoiding the strange technology that everyone seemed to be carrying around with them at all times. Those weird black boxes seemed to gather the attention of its holder for way too long, in his opinion. He had watched some woman walk into a fountain the other week because her eyes were glued to the device. Something about it just seemed nefarious. However, from what he's read and heard from people, those devices are the key to reaching this "Internet" and finding more information.

People seemed to look at him funny when he asked where he could purchase one of those devices, but someone eventually pointed him to a store that housed dozens of the things on display, each staring at him with that eerie black sheen. He threw caution to the wind with the store owner, bombarding him with question after question about how the devices operated, citing that he was a rural bumpkin who had never operated one before. Two hours after entering the store, he was the not-so-proud new owner of a mobile device, commonly referred to as a cell phone.

Operating the device was much easier than he had anticipated, but owning it brought yet another problem to solve. He lacked identification of any kind. Without identification, he couldn't open an account with a bank, and without that, he couldn't really pay for many things legally. This store owner gave him a month of service on this phone, but he needed accounts and such to pay for any more service. This was a problem that he felt much more comfortable handling. What he needed to do was find the Earth equivalent to a Thieves Guild. There had to be someone who could set him up with passable ID.

Acarius actually had some history with the Thieves Guild back in Riften. Skyrim was where the Thalmor finally located him, and the Thieves Guild was providing his last major sanctuary. Brynjolf allowed anyone to hide in the Ratways from the law, or any other force, as long as they paid enough. The Ratways were a great hiding spot for criminals of a common sort, but his sister was a decorated Justiciar, and had tracked him down anyway. His emergency teleportation circle was also discovered, so when he teleported outside after being cornered, he was immediately met with more soldiers. It was a painful and humiliating defeat, drawn out by his wounds, and fleeing from his sister's wrath. But the point was that he knew how to enter an underworld. At least, Tamriel's underworld.

In the following days, he found that there wasn't really a Thieves Guild, really, but there were plenty of criminal enterprises around the city of Saint Petersburg. Finding them took time, and a lot of cash being flashed in their faces, but eventually he found people who could give him what he needed. He actually purchased four different IDs, all with different faces. The criminals were shown his "Disguise Quirk" for the job, which was just him using Disguise Self a few times. This ended up costing him a lot of money, but he knew that you couldn't really haggle over your extremely illegal identification without being shot.

The first ID was the one he would use for all of his things. It contained his real name and face, as he didn't really have any reason to hide who he was. All of the other IDs would be stashed safely in Oblivion, in case he needed to do something particularly illegal, allowing him to disguise himself safely. At least, that was the plan, assuming that these were all actually usable. To test their authenticity, he located a bank on the other side of the city, as far from his usual dwellings as possible, and approached with one of the three secondary IDs and the disguise to match.

They allowed him to open an account with no questions asked, thankfully. He actually decided to not open that account at the time, as the three secondary IDs were more for espionage than alternate accounts. It did give the mage enough confidence to enter a much more local bank to him using his real name. Once again, everything went smoothly, and he made a large cash deposit to formally open the account.

Next, he addressed his living situation. There was no reason to live in rundown buildings anymore, as he knew enough about the city and world to blend in. So, he found a lower-end apartment for rent. He didn't want anything lavish, because he didn't really have a good explanation of his income yet, so he chose somewhere the landlord wouldn't ask questions other than "Where's my money?" and such. Plus, he didn't need that much space. After finding the place, he paid his first month's rent in cash, saying that he would write a check for next month, which appeased the middle-aged man he was renting from greatly.

Alright, so back to the internet. He fumbled his way through connecting his cell phone service to his new bank account, allowing him to use the phone indefinitely as long as he had the money. So, the wizard began to explore the wonders of the web while laying on a bed in an apartment. It was all initially very confusing, but he seemed to grasp it much better when he started looking at it as compiled information from two centuries. He just needed to navigate the vastness of it, past all of the cat videos and political rants, to find real information.

More days passed in this way, with him occasionally making smaller cash deposits to his bank, and researching things on the internet. He had actually found many star charts that were put down over the years, however not a single one of them contained a planet or star he recognized. Which brought him confusion as to the nature of stars, as well. They were supposed to be the followers of Magnus, who ripped holes in reality as they passed with him. However, it seems that to these people, they were just huge balls of fusion energy passing light from millions of years ago. These revelations actually made him think that even the Warp Quirk theory might not hold water either, as he might have actually changed dimensions, not just moved through space. Still, he couldn't worry about that quite yet. He still had to find a career in this place, or maybe change cities. The money from pawning his gold was going to run out eventually, and selling gold was actually quite risky, as most people would probably assume that he created the gold with his Quirk: a highly illegal act.

No, he needed a steady, stable income. The mage began to furiously look into Russia's Hero system. Unlike in some countries, such as Japan, Heroes were more like licensed mercenaries than civil servants here. That actually suited Acarius just fine, as he needed money and a sense of doing good, not public fame. Applying for the position of Hero wasn't extremely complicated, but it required having his Quirk registered into a system, so the government could tell exactly what he could do. That was fine, they probably wouldn't complain that someone came to them to register their Quirk instead of hiding it illegally to do nefarious things. First, he would need to come up with a good cover for his Quirk.

The mage spent a good day coming up with a reasonable power set from his vast magical arsenal. Eventually, he settled on something that would allow him to use most of his spells, while still being under the cover of his Quirk.

Name: Acarius Aediath

Quirk: Sorcerer

Allows the Quirk user to manipulate most types of energies, particularly plasma, to do a vast variety of functions, for both destruction and transmutation.

It was vague, and didn't really explain what he could actually do with any transparency. This was on purpose, as his "Quirk" was an anomaly. There was simply no way he could pass off his skills as some mundane Quirk, so he was going to embrace the implausible. He would be a freak amongst freaks. The vagueness of the explanation would basically allow him to use any spell from the Destruction and Alteration schools while still being able to say that he's just "manipulating energy."

Acarius was actually quite adept at Restoration magic as well, but he would allow that to fall in a grey area, not using those spells publicly, and acting like it was perfectly normal if caught. He could always heal himself up after fights with no questions asked, and he doubted anyone he saves with it will grill him about his Quirk afterward.

With his cover in place, he went to the nearest facility to register his Quirk, and managed to wave off all concerns about not being registered before. Like he thought, they were just glad that he was being registered and not running around unchecked. He performed the tests with careful precision, trying to make his actions look less like casting a spell and more like using a function of his body. The staff of the facility were...stunned, to say the least. Seeing someone shoot fire, then lightning, then a variety of strange energies they didn't understand was unheard of. However, they simply documented what he showed them, asking questions that he answered succinctly. Sometimes, he would pull the "I'm not sure" card on them, giving his Quirk an edge of unpredictability that he would exploit mercilessly. It took nearly all day to finish his exam, and then fill out the appropriate paperwork. If nothing else, he definitely made those people's day.

The next day, he formally submitted his Hero Program application, which was actually accepted within a week. Odd, he thought that it would take longer than that. Nonetheless, the paper was sitting in his mail slot of the apartment building. He took it inside and began to read it. It was filled with boring nonsense to give it that authentic legal sound, but he did get to the an interesting part. An interview was to be performed, with the Chief of Police, of all people, about a position of some importance. Interesting.

Naturally, he went to said meeting at the police station at the allotted time to satiate his curiosity. There he met the police chief, a kindly older man by the name of Dimitri Petrov with sharp brown eyes that made Acarius think of a killer. Definitely more alert than he seemed. He almost reminded the mage of Tolfdir sometimes. At the meeting, Acarius was offered a trial Hero status in exchange for working with the police against the latest surge of Bratva-related crime. This was certainly interesting, as he knew that the Bratva hadn't actually been active in almost 100 years, having destroyed themselves once Quirks made random goons potentially more powerful than a whole crime syndicate. Apparently, they had sorted out the chaos, and were now making moves with Quirked goons instead of the usual thugs associated with them. Now, the police were scrambling to match firepower with them, so to speak, so they needed strong Heroes to take the brunt of the damage. The police chief certainly didn't try to hide that they only really cared that he beat the people he needed to beat, not concerned with collateral damage at all. Well, he supposed he could play that game, if only to test himself against the powers of Quirked individuals. He had a feeling he'd need the experience if he was going to get anywhere in this world.

After agreeing to be their attack dog, he was made to sign a bunch of paperwork stating that he wasn't supposed to kill anyone unless given no other option, among other similar clauses. It was essentially to make sure he understood that he was technically doing police work, so he had to operate under police guidelines. Nothing disagreeable, so he signed and moved on. Afterward, he was presented with an official "Hero License" to present when questioned. Chief Petrov then gave him what boiled down to a list of targets, locations, and Quirk information for the leading members of the current Bratva. Russia really did treat their Heroes like mercenaries. A harsh system for a harsh people. That was ideal for him.

The first strike was scheduled for next week, giving him some time to prepare. He had a feeling that he'd need it, if he was going up against abilities he couldn't directly counter with magic. From what he's seen, it was possible for people to possess Quirks that greatly increased their physical prowess, something that he couldn't really do for himself without specialized materials. On top of that, his supply of enchanted equipment was essentially cut off unless he could fabricate the tools necessary. There was one option he still had that could give him an edge, but he wasn't particularly eager to suffer through the pain of it. An idea for later, perhaps.

Going back to his apartment, he stopped by a small convenience store to pick up some essentials, also getting more notebooks and pens (which he was definitely going to start marketing in Tamriel when he got back) to buffer his good supply. As he walked down the street in front of his building, a large man came out of an alley beside him, tapping the elf on the shoulder. Acarius turned to face the human, who was just as tall as him and twice as wide. Wearing what they called a hoodie that had seen better days, unremarkable jeans, and a cloth face mask, he probably meant to mug him. He was also wielding a puny switchblade that passed for a knife in these lands. "Wallet, now. Or I'll stick you, freak," he hissed at the mage.

A small orange glow enveloped the switchblade, tearing it from the mugger's grasp and flinging it across the street. Before he could protest, the petty criminal found himself floating five feet off the ground, his target casually raising one glowing hand while staring him down. The mage took another look at the man, seeing someone who hasn't eaten in a while resigning themself to a bad fate. Not worth the time to arrest, let alone kill. Perhaps a different approach, then. "Come, mugger. There's a shelter down the street, unless you'd like to see a prison cell's interior."

The man fell back to the ground, barely landing on his feet. His would-be victim was walking away, motioning him to follow. He didn't have a weapon, and was clearly outmatched, so he followed the stranger across the paved sidewalk of downtown. True to his word, the elf lead him to a homeless shelter that was a 10 minute walk from his crime. Before he could question the stranger, he was shoved through the doors of the shelter, while the hooded elf walked away again. What a weird intervention.

Acarius watched the mugger walk into the shelter properly before taking off himself, intent on doing a little tinkering with the desk in his apartment.

After getting home with no more incidents, he began his project. The main goal he was setting was to create a functional enchanting table. The only problem was that he lacked basically every material that made up an enchanting table save for a couple of soul gems. Nonetheless, he gave it an attempt, taking up the last hours of daylight attempting to inscribe delicate magical runes onto Ikea furniture.

It failed. Spectacularly. He needed a new desk.

Night came, and he sat on his floor, pondering his options. At this point, he doubted that he could make an authentic enchanting table capable of lasting any amount of time. The flow of energy was just impossible to contain with Earthly materials. That left him with either making do with his current equipment, or doing something very reckless and painful. It's not even that his current equipment was bad, but it was all based around magical combat. Wards and barriers would still be effective here, no doubt, but much of his magical arsenal revolved around counterspells and disrupting his opponent's flow of magicka. Utterly ineffective in this land of Quirks.

He needed enchantments that focused on pure power, and boosting his physical attributes to let him keep up with the variety of abilities that Quirks provided. His Destruction magic was as potent as it was going to get, but he couldn't start reducing every enemy he came across in these lands to ash. Plus, his unarmed attacks might prove ineffective against any kind of defensive ability. Speed was also an issue. An opponent you couldn't hit was an opponent you couldn't beat.

Laying back down on his bed, he fell asleep thinking about a simpler time.

I wanted to keep this chapter going, but it was starting to run a little long, so I'll post the conclusion of the Bratva Raid in the next chapter. If you're confused on why I put Acarius in Russia of all places, when all of MHA is focused on Japan, it's basically so he can do some illegal shit and get a pedigree going before having to participate in anything serious.

You might also notice that I included the D&D spell Tongues in his arsenal. This is a choice I made because Elder Scrolls wizards should have a variety of magic at their disposal, but our experience is only in the context of a video game. There might be some more spells from D&D or similar sources thrown in, but most of them are canon Skyrim spells, or ones from the Apocalypse Spell Pack. That mod, and Ordinator, are big influences on how I'll write his magic.

Also, sorry for doing a lot of "tell, don't show" here, but I'm trying to get to the important plot of MHA without doing a jarring timeskip, so Acarius might bounce around a lot outside of action-focused scenes. Not every meeting he'll have with a cast of OCs in a country he won't remain in are worth going into great depth over, in my opinion.

Feel free to bombard me with any criticisms you have, I'll take it all.

Also, if you have any questions into how I view the mechanics of Acarius's abilities, feel free to ask. His spell list doesn't have to be some mystery.