The call finally connected.
On the other end, the voice that answered was laced with caution, tension, and just a trace of panic. It had been years, after all. Years of silence. Years of preparing for this very day.
The caller posed the verification riddle—one Daniel had embedded decades ago as a final contingency. When Daniel answered it flawlessly, the mood on the other side shifted. Panic turned into calm. Doubt gave way to recognition.
This was the signal they'd been waiting for.
Daniel didn't waste time. After confirming the family's current status in the Netherlands, he instructed them to begin enacting the infiltration plans. One layer at a time, they were to initiate contact with the other two forces he'd seeded in advance. There were people among them who would know what to do—loyalties buried deep, networks encrypted beyond discovery.
It wasn't time to show his hand yet. But when it was, Daniel would be ready to pull the strings.
Right now, the most immediate concern was establishing a legitimate identity—one that would allow him to move freely in the United States without drawing attention. Raw power wasn't enough anymore. In a modern world under constant satellite surveillance, even a master magician could find himself boxed in without paperwork and plausible cover.
Thankfully, his emergency arrangements were holding strong.
The family he'd supported from the shadows had grown quietly powerful in the Netherlands. Daniel had left them enough resources to flourish, but had insisted they remain low profile. To the world, they existed as a private, reclusive clan with unclear origins. Internally, however, they were tightly organized—and loyal.
There were many such secretive families across Europe: in Belgium, Norway, even England. After the Second World War, paranoia and history had taught them the dangers of visibility. The tragedy of the Jews had carved deep lessons into their bones.
No matter how wealthy or influential they became, they stayed hidden. Never at the forefront. Always in the shadows.
That secrecy allowed Daniel to maneuver in ways few others could. And it gave him the room to exist again.
By the next morning, a discreet courier arrived with everything he needed:
– A complete set of identification papers,
– A bank card backed by multiple shell accounts,
– And the keys to a high-end apartment in Manhattan.
In the span of a night, Daniel had become someone.
In today's world, money was still magic. Without it, even the most powerful sorcerer would struggle to buy a cup of coffee. Now, he had the means to blend in, move unseen, and act with subtlety.
As the days passed, Daniel spent time combing through the archives and digital repositories at Empire State University. He focused not just on historical events, but on anomalies—threads and patterns that pointed to hidden truths.
The public history of the mortal world had mostly stayed on track. There were small discrepancies, but nothing catastrophic. What interested him were the undercurrents:
– S.H.I.E.L.D.
– HYDRA
– Leviathan
– Captain America's Howling Commandos,
– The earliest reports of Spider-Man, the Fantastic Four, the X-Men, the Inhumans, and even extraterrestrial threats like the Kree and Skrulls.
Not all of them were easy to trace. In fact, most remained hidden from the eyes of the public.
Even now, S.H.I.E.L.D. operated mostly in shadows. HYDRA was buried even deeper. The official records barely mentioned the Howling Commandos—instead, attributing their wartime victories solely to Captain Rogers.
Names like Namor, Miss America, or the original Human Torch had all but vanished from the record. If you weren't looking for them, you'd never know they existed.
But the Fantastic Four and Spider-Man? They had made headlines—at least in tabloids and fringe news outlets. Mutants, too, appeared occasionally in whispers and scandal sheets. That silence wouldn't last long. Daniel knew history well enough to anticipate that their time was coming.
For now, the biggest story dominating the airwaves was the upcoming Stark Expo. Daniel knew he'd have to attend—for many reasons. Meeting Stark directly might be inevitable.
In the meantime, his network in the Netherlands had been hard at work. The identity they'd crafted for him was immaculate. Every detail—from his supposed childhood, to past schools, medical records, acquaintances—had been accounted for.
Everything was in place.
The next morning, Daniel stood across from Betty Ross, holding a letter.
She blinked at the official-looking envelope. "Wait—what is that?"
He smiled. "What does it look like? It's my acceptance letter. I'm officially enrolled in the Department of Biological Sciences at Empire State University. I guess that makes me a freshman."
Betty's jaw dropped. "You're… 18?"
"According to the birth certificate, yes," Daniel replied, chuckling.
He stepped closer, casually wrapping an arm around her waist.
Betty frowned, staring into his eyes. "You're really going to keep up the act?"
"Age is just a number, Professor," he said teasingly, lifting her chin with a finger. "Especially for a magician."
She huffed in mock annoyance, but didn't pull away. "Fine. But you're going to have to move out. I can't keep hiding a student in the faculty dorms."
Daniel kissed her cheek. "Already handled. I just closed on the new place. I was planning to celebrate tonight."
Betty sipped her coffee, her tone softening. "Okay. Let's swing by the Academic Affairs Office first. Then maybe pick up some cake and check out your apartment."
"Perfect."
Daniel had spent the morning picking up his custom-tailored suit and a new suitcase. His old Jotunheim furs—leather armor, boots, robes—were no longer practical for life on Earth. He'd modify them later, perhaps into an enchanted robe. For now, he needed to blend in.
The beast furs from Jotunheim were undeniably superior in comfort and durability. Creatures that survived in those frozen realms had evolved hide tougher than anything on Earth. But style still mattered here. And appearances were half the battle.
When Daniel returned to campus, he spotted Betty waiting on a bench, holding a coffee. She wore a light blue plaid dress—simple, elegant, and effortlessly graceful.
Her eyes lit up when she saw him.
She stood up instinctively, her smile widening. The sight of Daniel in a crisp brown suit, his hair freshly styled and beard trimmed, made him look completely transformed. Like a modern scholar, not a war-hardened mage from the frozen edge of reality.
She embraced him.
But the moment Daniel returned the gesture, something snapped inside him. His muscles tensed. His eyes narrowed.
A pressure—primal and overwhelming—washed over him.
It was like being watched by a predator.
His breath caught.
Under the shade of a large oak tree in the distance, a burly man stood in silence. He wore a plain hat pulled low, but there was no hiding the raw energy pulsing from his form. His eyes gleamed faintly—
Green.
Uncontrolled. Angry. Ancient.
Daniel's pulse spiked.
He didn't need to be told who it was.
Even in disguise. Even across the field. He knew.
Bruce Banner…
Or rather…
The Hulk.
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