The dirt road stretched before me, winding through rolling green hills and pockets of forest. The air was crisp, untainted by factories or pollution. This was Earth, but not the one I remembered — not cars, skyscrapers, and cell phones, but carriages, stone villages, and the creak of wooden wheels.
Mystica lounged across my shoulders like a living scarf, golden eyes half-lidded. So, Mistress, she purred in my head, what do we expect to find out here?
"History," I said, smiling faintly. "The kind people forget. Marvel history isn't just superheroes and alien invasions — there are cults, hidden mages, ancient bloodlines, and more monsters than anyone likes to admit. I want to see who's crawling around right now."
As if on cue, the wind shifted, carrying the faint sound of chanting.
I tilted my head. "Well, that didn't take long."
Down in a grove of old oaks, I found them. Hooded figures stood in a rough circle, painted symbols glowing faintly beneath their feet. Their voices rose and fell in a tongue most humans would call gibberish, but my brain translated instantly.
Mystica's tail flicked lazily. Old magic. Not Hogwarts, not Kamar-Taj. Something cruder.
"Druidic," I whispered. "Old Celtic rites. They're calling on an ancient spirit."
The air inside the circle shimmered. A figure was beginning to form — tall, dark, its edges burning like smoke and fire. My lips curled.
"Summoning rituals," I muttered. "Always fun until you let the thing actually through."
Mystica yawned. You going to stop them?
I grinned. "Why not?"
With a flick of my fingers, the entire grove shifted. Their chalk lines rearranged, their circle inverted. The summoning backfired, collapsing in on itself like a popped balloon. The hooded figures screamed as the magic cracked, knocking them all off their feet. The shadow creature vanished before it could take form.
I stepped forward, clapping slowly. "Cute effort. Terrible execution."
The leader scrambled up, pulling down his hood. His face was pale, eyes wide in terror. "W-Who are you?"
I smiled sweetly. "Elaine. Remember the name."
A faint growl vibrated in his throat, but he didn't try to stand against me. Smart man.
I waved my hand, dismissing him. "Run along. Tell your little cult friends the forests aren't theirs anymore."
They fled, tripping over themselves, disappearing into the trees.
Mystica stretched, curling her tail around my neck. That was merciful of you.
"Merciful?" I tilted my head. "No. Practical. They'll spread rumors. Whisper my name. Fear's the best advertising."
The cat purred. I like the way you think.
We kept walking, further from the grove and deeper into the countryside. Villages dotted the horizon — thatched roofs, smoke from chimneys, humans living their short, fragile lives, oblivious to the storms above them.
I thought of the timeline. Odin sat on his throne in Asgard, growing older but still powerful. The Ancient One had not yet claimed her title, but Kamar-Taj existed — hidden, watching. On this Earth, most people believed in folk spirits, devils, angels. They had no idea how right they were.
Mystica's voice slid through my thoughts. You're thinking of them. Odin. The Ancient One.
"Of course," I murmured. "They're the real players. Everyone else is just noise."
"Then what's our goal?"
I smiled, watching the sun dip low, painting the sky in streaks of gold. "To be louder than the noise. To grow so strong and so feared that by the time Strange, Thor, and the rest come along… they'll just be dancing on the stage I built."
Mystica purred in approval.
The wind carried smoke from the nearest village. Bells rang faintly in the distance. Somewhere, old magic slumbered, waiting to be claimed.
I grinned, stepping off the road. "Come on, Mystica. Let's see what kind of secrets early Marvel Earth is hiding."
With pleasure, she whispered.
And with that, we walked into history — the immortal witch and her ever-growing familiar, carving their mark into a world that didn't know their name yet.