The Hall family resided in Queens, the largest of New York's five boroughs and one of the most ethnically diverse urban areas in the world.
Compared to Brooklyn, known for its predominantly Black communities, Queens was home to a significant Asian population.
Bruce, living under the guise of an adopted Hall child, had been staying there for three days.
He was set to enroll at Midtown School, a prominent institution in Queens with both middle and high school divisions. Given his age, Bruce would be joining the middle school division.
According to the backstory crafted by HYDRA, Bruce, Wanda, and Pietro had never attended elementary school, having received only home education.
This narrative was designed to avoid complications in the future, should anyone investigate their earlier schooling. Home education would raise fewer questions and make it harder to trace their pasts.
In the U.S., while not mainstream, homeschooling wasn't uncommon.
In fact, with the increasing frequency of school shootings and the introduction of progressive gender laws in schools, more parents were opting to educate their children at home.
As long as a student passed the SAT or ACT exams, they could qualify for college—no one really cared whether they had attended elementary or middle school.
Over the past few days, Bruce had experienced something entirely new: neighborhood culture.
When he moved into the Hall residence, neighbors came over with homemade dishes to greet them.
The Hall family's neighbors were a melting pot—Asians, Latinos, African Americans—and Bruce found himself sampling a variety of cuisines he'd never encountered before.
In Gotham, no one ever knocked on my door, Bruce thought as he sat in the living room, sharing a meal with Kathoom.
On the table in front of them was a platter of General Tso's Chicken, a dish brought over by their Chinese-American neighbors.
Alongside it were other Americanized Chinese staples: Egg Foo Young, Sesame Chicken, Chop Suey, and Mongolian Beef.
These dishes were the hallmark of Chinese fast-food menus across the U.S., as the neighbors next door owned a takeout restaurant.
Bruce clutched a pair of chopsticks, his fingers awkwardly fumbling as he tried to master the foreign utensils. Despite his best efforts, using them felt unnatural.
Meanwhile, Kathoom—limited to using his wings—handled the chopsticks with remarkable ease.
Standing on the table, the owl expertly wielded the sticks, seamlessly picking up pieces of food. No sooner had one bite entered his mouth than another was already in transit.
The sight left Bruce feeling defeated.
"Why do those Easterners insist on using such inconvenient tools?" he grumbled. "What's wrong with forks and knives?"
"Blasphemy!" Kathoom retorted, his beak full of meat. "Chopsticks are a brilliant invention. The wise people of the East foresaw a future where humans would need to eat while scrolling on their phones, so they created chopsticks.
"Ancient wisdom at its finest—just keep practicing."
"Yeah, right," Bruce muttered, rolling his eyes. He wasn't about to lose to a pair of sticks.
After some time, Kathoom lay on the table, his stomach full and bloated, letting out contented belches.
"Meh," he said, patting his belly. "Too sweet. Gets cloying after a while."
Indeed, finding authentic Chinese cuisine in the U.S. could be a challenge.
When Chinese food first arrived in America, skilled chefs prepared traditional dishes, but local diners found the flavors unpalatable.
Eventually, the chefs adapted, sweetening the dishes to appeal to American tastes.
Thus was born the sugary, fusion-style fare now known as American Chinese cuisine.
Kathoom, sprawled out and digesting, noticed that Bruce was finally getting the hang of the chopsticks.
"By the way," Kathoom said suddenly, "I'm heading out for a few days."
"Where are you going?" Bruce asked, frowning. "I'm about to start school. Aren't you coming with me?"
"This isn't Hogwarts," Kathoom replied dryly. "Show up on your first day with an owl, and you'll be branded a weirdo. Good luck avoiding the bullying after that."
Bullying was practically a cultural institution in American schools.
Even Bruce, with all his resolve, wouldn't be immune.
In the Gotham TV series, young Bruce Wayne returned to school after losing his parents, only to face relentless bullying—though he quickly turned the tables once his peers realized he was the heir to the Wayne fortune.
"So, where are you going?" Bruce asked. "When will you be back?"
"Not far," Kathoom replied. "I'm heading to the Middle East for a bit. I'll be back soon."
"To find Tony Stark?" Bruce guessed, catching on quickly. Kathoom had no other connections in the Middle East. Stark was the only person he might be interested in.
"What's the point? Didn't you say Stark's kidnapping was a necessary step in his journey to becoming Iron Man?"
"True," Kathoom said, shrugging his wings. "But things have been boring lately. No supervillains, no conspiracies, and you're about to start school. I need some excitement."
Surely, the mighty Kathoom wouldn't stoop to attending middle school.
At the moment, the MCU universe was eerily quiet.
Beyond petty crimes like muggings and gang violence, there wasn't much happening.
"Stark is the catalyst for everything," Kathoom explained. "Once he becomes Iron Man, superheroes and supervillains will emerge in droves."
Before then, most superpowered crimes remained in the shadows.
"Fine," Bruce relented. Keeping Kathoom cooped up wasn't ideal either. "Just don't forget to come back when I join SHIELD. I expect you to at least show up for that."
"Alright, alright. Don't get sentimental," Kathoom said dismissively. "You sound like a kid begging their parents to attend their school's sports day. Don't worry—I won't let you down."
With that, Kathoom slowly stood up.
Hic!
The owl let out a loud burp, flapping his wings in an attempt to lift off. But his overstuffed belly kept dragging him back down.
After a few failed attempts, he gave up.
"Whatever. I'm a wizard—I don't need to fly manually," Kathoom muttered, shaking his head. "See you later, Little Bat."
With a strange pop, Kathoom vanished, teleporting away via Apparition.
"What was that noise?" Wanda asked groggily, rubbing her eyes as she emerged from her room.
"Nothing," Bruce replied, shaking his head as though nothing had happened.
Inwardly, he wondered how long Kathoom would be gone.
Left unsupervised, the owl would undoubtedly get himself into all kinds of trouble.
---
Boom!
A loud noise echoed as Kathoom suddenly materialized midair. Before hitting the ground, he twisted his body, landing smoothly.
"What's going on?"
Frowning, he scanned his surroundings. He was on a rocky outcrop surrounded by rolling waves.
Even an idiot could tell this wasn't the Middle East.
Kathoom had precisely targeted the Middle East before Apparating, but now he found himself somewhere completely different. Something must have gone wrong.
"I'm not some amateur like Bruce. How could I make such a mistake?"
Just as he thought this, a golden ring of light appeared in midair.
The ring expanded outward, revealing a portal to another space.
From the portal emerged a bald woman in yellow monk-like robes. She smiled at Kathoom.
"Hello, little owl," she greeted. "If I'm not mistaken, your name is Kathoom, isn't it?"
The Ancient One!
Kathoom instantly recognized her.
The Sorcerer Supreme of Kamar-Taj. The protector of Earth.
Arguably the most powerful being on the planet right now.
And she had noticed him so quickly.
What's more, her greeting wasn't in any human language—it sounded like birdsong, perfectly intelligible to him.
"I don't understand what you're saying," Kathoom said, shaking his head and putting on an innocent face. "I'm just an owl."
"Let's not play games," the Ancient One said with a smile. "I noticed you and that boy the moment you entered this world.
"I've been observing you for several days now, ensuring you mean no harm. Only after confirming this did I decide to approach you."
Her words were calm, but upon reflection, they carried a chilling undertone.
She had been aware of Kathoom and Bruce from the start but had chosen to remain silent.
Only after determining they weren't a threat did she make her presence known.
Kathoom couldn't help but wonder—if they had been a threat, would she have simply obliterated them?
"I'd like to have a chat with you, Kathoom," the Ancient One continued. "Where did you come from? What is your purpose here? And how long do you intend to stay?
"You wouldn't want me asking the boy these questions, would you?"
Her smile was friendly and warm, exuding an air of kindness.
But Kathoom wasn't fooled. Beneath that facade lay an overwhelming power he wouldn't dare underestimate.
"We're just travelers, exploring different worlds," Kathoom replied. "We have no ill intentions. If you insist on monitoring us, you'll only be wasting your time."
His words were vague, but after a moment's thought, he decided to add some truth.
"If you must know, I should warn you—Bruce and I might not be the only ones who've entered this world."
"Oh?"
The Ancient One tilted her head slightly, intrigued.
"There are two others who look just like us," Kathoom said. "Zombies, to be precise. They may have entered this world as well."
Zombie Bruce and Zombie Kathoom—two entities that shouldn't even exist.
They shared the appearance of Bruce and Kathoom but were fundamentally unrelated to them.
Unfortunately, having the same face created unavoidable complications.
"Is that so?"
The Ancient One paused, thinking. "But aside from the two of you, I haven't detected any other arrivals."
"They'll come," Kathoom said knowingly. "Too bad you don't have clairvoyance. If you did, you could just look into the future and see for yourself."
Clairvoyance?
The Ancient One pondered Kathoom's words. She did have the ability to observe possible futures and alternate timelines.
"I trust you'll keep your promise," she said softly. "Don't cause any trouble in this world. If you're merely passing through, I won't interfere."
With that, she turned to leave, stepping toward her portal.
This meeting was meant as a warning, a declaration of her vigilance.
Typically, the Ancient One wouldn't have approached so cautiously.
She could usually determine whether an outsider posed a threat through a few days of observation—or, if needed, by glimpsing their potential futures.
But this situation was different.
No matter how much she observed Kathoom and Bruce, she couldn't reach a definitive conclusion.
Their actions seemed indistinguishable from those of ordinary locals. Joining HYDRA appeared to be just another mundane life choice.
When Kathoom finally left Bruce's side, creating an opening for conversation, the Ancient One seized the opportunity to confront him directly.
Having delivered her warning and demonstrated her power by interrupting Kathoom's Apparition, she felt her message was clear.
Sometimes, maintaining an air of mystery was the best way to instill respect and caution.
The Ancient One turned to step through her portal back to Kamar-Taj.
But just as she crossed the threshold, a blur darted past her and landed on the other side.
"I've changed my mind."
Flapping his wings, Kathoom landed gracefully in her sanctuary.
"I was going to mess around with Tony Stark, but you've scared me!"
He puffed out his chest, looking determined to stay.
"You're responsible for this. So, for the time being, I'm sticking with you. I can't risk being blamed for something that goes wrong later."
With that, Kathoom flew off into the distance, acting as if Kamar-Taj was now his home.
"What?"
The Ancient One froze, a bemused smile forming on her face.
This owl was way too comfortable.
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T/N: bro is gonna learn a new form of magic