The intruders had been dealt with. The True Order had been sent a message loud and clear—Harry Stark was not to be trifled with.
But something still lingered in the air.
A shift.
A presence.
Harry felt it before the others did. His magic reacted, curling around him like a sentient force, humming in warning. His glowing emerald eyes narrowed as he turned toward the large windows overlooking the city.
A storm was coming.
Literally.
Dark clouds swirled over New York, thunder rumbling through the sky. A sudden crack of lightning split through the air, striking the rooftop of Avengers Tower with unnatural precision.
Steve immediately tensed. "Stark, please tell me that's just the weather."
Tony sighed, rubbing his temples. "Nope. That's him."
"Who?" Harry asked, though he already had a feeling he knew the answer.
As if in response, another bolt of lightning slammed down onto the balcony. The very air shook, and suddenly, a figure stood where the lightning had struck.
Tall. Broad. Clad in armor and red fabric.
Thor, God of Thunder.
Harry tilted his head slightly. He had read about Thor in Muggle books, but now, standing before him, he could feel the sheer power radiating from the Asgardian.
And yet—
The moment Thor's eyes landed on Harry, something changed.
The mighty god's breath hitched. His grip on Mjolnir tightened, and his expression was one of something Harry never expected to see.
Reverence.
Then, before anyone could react—
Thor dropped to one knee.
The room stilled.
Steve's eyes widened. Natasha straightened slightly, her sharp instincts immediately recognizing something significant was happening.
Harry, however, just stared. "…What are you doing?"
Thor bowed his head.
"Master of Death," he rumbled, his deep voice filled with something dangerously close to worship. "It is truly an honor to stand in your presence."
Silence.
Then—
Tony blinked. "Well. That's new."
Clint muttered, "Okay, what the hell?"
Harry took a step forward, studying Thor carefully. "You know what I am?"
Thor slowly lifted his gaze. His blue eyes burned with something ancient. "All of Asgard knows of you. The Master of Death is no mere mortal. You are a being beyond fate itself, beyond even the gods."
Harry exhaled slowly. "You're talking about the Hallows."
Thor nodded. "The Deathly Hallows were never meant to be mere tools of magic. They were created as a gift—or perhaps a curse—from forces beyond mortal comprehension. And you wielded them."
Harry remained silent.
He had wielded them. The Elder Wand. The Resurrection Stone. The Cloak of Invisibility. He had mastered them all.
But he had never considered what that meant.
"Okay," Tony said, clapping his hands together. "This is getting way too mystical for me. Can we get a dumbed-down version?"
Thor chuckled. "To put it simply, Stark—your son is beyond even my father's understanding. He is beyond time. He has touched Death itself and walked away unchained."
Tony blinked. "Huh. So, basically, my kid is terrifying on a cosmic level?"
Thor smiled. "Indeed."
Tony turned to Harry, smirking. "Proud of you, kid."
Before Harry could respond, the air in the room shifted again.
A new presence.
Cold. Ancient.
And then—
Another figure stepped out of the shadows.
Tall. Slender. Clad in green and gold.
Loki.
The trickster god's sharp emerald eyes locked onto Harry's glowing ones. He didn't speak immediately. Instead, he simply watched, taking in every detail.
Then, slowly, his lips curled into a knowing smirk.
"Well, well," Loki murmured. "So the Master of Death walks among us."
Unlike Thor, he didn't bow.
But there was no disrespect in his stance.
No.
There was understanding.
Recognition.
Harry held his gaze, unflinching. "And you are?"
Loki's smirk widened. "Oh, I think you know who I am." He took a step closer, tilting his head slightly. "Tell me, Master of Death—what is it like to stand beyond the grasp of Fate?"
Harry didn't respond immediately. He felt something from Loki. A deep, unspoken knowledge. The trickster god understood.
Because he, too, had defied fate before.
"It's lonely," Harry said at last.
Loki's smirk faltered. Just slightly.
Then—
He laughed.
"Ah," Loki said, eyes glinting with something unreadable. "You are truly dangerous."
Thor frowned. "Loki—"
"Oh, relax, dear brother," Loki said, waving him off. "I have no intention of making an enemy of him." He turned back to Harry, his expression unreadable. "In fact, I believe we will get along quite well."
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Will we?"
Loki's smirk returned, sharper than before. "Oh, yes. Because unlike these mortals—" He glanced at the Avengers. "—you and I? We are different."
Harry exhaled slowly, his magic settling slightly.
Thor still knelt.
Loki still watched.
And Harry?
He realized, for the first time, that his existence was far greater than he had ever imagined.
He wasn't just the Boy Who Lived.
He wasn't just a wizard.
He was something more.
Something the gods themselves recognized.
And whatever was coming for him?
It had no idea what it was about to face.