Chapter 26

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"Could it be… that a wizard's bloodline is tied not to raw power, but to the realm of the soul?"

Mark's thoughts turned inward as the cold wind bit across the battlefield. His towering Great Ape form had just receded, leaving him kneeling, human again, wrapped only in the tattered remnants of his cloak. But it wasn't the chill he noticed mostit was the clarity.

Magic in the Harry Potter universe had never operated like ki. Wizards didn't talk about running out of magical energy in the same way martial artists worried about stamina or depletion. Even in the midst of intense duels, like those at the Department of Mysteries or the Battle of Hogwarts, the concept of magical exhaustion was virtually absent.

This observation tugged at something deeper.

"I don't think they run out of magic," Mark murmured to himself. "They just… tire mentally."

It began to crystallize. The spells weren't fueled by a finite internal reservoir. Rather, magic was channeled through the will, through emotional control, mental clarity, focus. Spells faltered under stress, not from lack of energy. The soul and mind, it seemed, were the true conduits of a wizard's strength.

That would explain the deep mental consequences of Dark Magic, the toll it took on the user's psyche. It explained the tragedy of Obscurials, children whose emotional repression created violent magical implosions. It explained why even death wasn't the end for many wizards, whose spiritual imprints lingered as ghosts or more darkly Horcruxes.

"This kind of magic… isn't limited by biology. It's driven by the mind."

He glanced down at his hands. Still trembling slightly from the aftershock of transformation. But something was different now. Even as residual ki shimmered faintly in his veins, it was braided with a new kind of discipline. His body felt tired, but his mind was clear.

If wizardry enhanced the mind, then that enhancement had fused with his Saiyan physiology. The result was unprecedented.

"The wizard blood… it stabilizes the Saiyan one. No rage. No madness. Just control."

He understood now why low-class Saiyans lost themselves in their Great Ape form. Their minds simply couldn't handle the flood of instinct. Their spiritual cores weren't strong enough to contain it. That's why Vegeta could, his pride, his mental discipline, his elite lineage all forged a stronger mind. Now, with the Harry Potter template reinforcing his mental architecture, Mark had achieved the same.

And perhaps… gone even further.

Onboard the hovering Quinjet, Nick Fury watched the battlefield with a squint. His arms were crossed, his trench coat whipping in the turbulent wind. He hadn't spoken since Mark's second transformation. The boy had returned to his Giant Ape form, without going berserk.

Fury exhaled through his nose.

"This kid," he muttered

"is either the most disciplined mutant I've ever seen… or the biggest threat I've ever let walk away."

Beside him, Agent Carter folded her arms, watching the shrinking figure of Mark with equal parts awe and concern.

"He's not attacking. Not even posturing," she said.

"It's like he's… waiting."

Nick's jaw worked in silence. Eventually, he opened the comm channel.

"Maria. Hold position. Do not re-engage. I Repeat do not engage the kid."

A pause. Then Captain Marvel's voice crackled through the headset, her voice edged with wariness. "he's not angry. Not anymore."

Fury narrowed his eye.

"Something's changed."

~~~~~

Aboard the X-Jet, Professor Charles Xavier sat calmly in his hover-chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin. Though his expression was composed, his mind was anything but still.

He reached out, delicately threading a telepathic strand toward Mark. Unlike most minds, Mark's was protected, shielded by the interface system but communication was still possible.

"Mark. Are you in control?"

Mark didn't hesitate. "Yes, Professor. Completely. I can regulate it now."

Xavier let out a soft sigh of relief.

"Good. Then I ask you to remain passive. I've just reopened negotiations with Director Fury. We may be able to defuse this without further combat."

Mark's answer came with a note of skepticism.

"He only changed his mind because he thought I was still a threat. If he knew I'm running on fumes…"

"That's why we let him keep thinking it," Xavier replied gently.

Mark paused. Then gave a mental nod.

"Understood. I'll hold back. But if he tries anything…"

"We'll be ready."

Back on the field, the last vestiges of the Great Ape form vanished. Mark stood barefoot in the snow, his body returned to normal. The cold pricked at his skin, but he remained standing, wand in one hand, cloak in the other.

Captain Marvel floated a few meters away, arms crossed, eyes sharp.

"You look different," she said cautiously. "More stable."

Mark glanced up at her with a sheepish smile. "I'm still me. Just… smaller."

Maria Rambeau raised a brow. "Good. I was starting to run out of photon blasts."

She floated gently down to his level, noticing his disheveled state.

"You're gonna want to get dressed," she said, smirking slightly. "It's hard to project intimidation when you're shivering."

Mark flushed and wrapped a torn piece of cloth around his waist.

"Noted."

Soon after, both the Quinjet and X-Jet touched down.

Their ramps opened in perfect sync. From one side, Charles Xavier glided out, flanked by Storm and Cyclops. From the other, Nick Fury stepped into the open, Agent Carter at his side, followed by SHIELD agents armed but at ease.

There was tension, but no weapons were raised.

"I think we can agree," Xavier said with quiet gravity, "that today's escalation was… unfortunate."

Fury didn't argue. "We were misinformed. That much is clear. Let's fix it before more mistakes are made."

Mark stood between the groups, still cloaked in fabric and dirt, but with his wand discreetly gripped in his palm.

He gave Xavier a meaningful glance.

"I'm going to freshen up. But if this turns into a fight again… I'll be right back."

Fury offered a tight smile. "Let's hope that won't be necessary."

Inside the X-Jet, Mark stepped out of view, then cast his Reparo charm with a flick of the wand. His robe stitched itself back together in seconds. Dressed, he threw on the invisibility cloak, gripped his broomstick, and vanished from view.

Gliding soundlessly, he looped around the battlefield. In the chaos, no one noticed a shimmer of movement pass overhead.

He entered the Quinjet's cargo hold undetected. Inside, two guards stood by a pair of tranquilized prisoners Magneto and Mystique.

Mark's eyes narrowed.

"Petrificus Totalus. Petrificus Totalus."

Two flashes of blue light, and the guards fell, frozen in place.

He floated closer to the prisoners. Their eyes were closed, but their breathing was steady. With care, he pointed his wand.

"Rennervate."

Mystique stirred first, then Magneto. Both blinked groggily as Mark's disembodied voice reached them.

"Quiet. I'm getting you out."

Magneto's eyes snapped open, then widened as Mark shimmered into view wand in hand, broom under one arm, smile faint but steady.

"You…" Magneto's voice was hoarse. "I assumed you were another of Xavier's students. But you're… something else."

"I'm a lot of things," Mark said, offering his hand. "Right now, I'm your ride out of here."

Mystique stared in disbelief. "You're a wizard?"

"Among other things."

Magneto accepted the help, rising to his feet.

"Kid," he said solemnly, "I owe you one."

Mark grinned, then wrapped the cloak around them all.

"Let's make sure you live long enough to pay it back."