"Steve… A. Min?" Natasha Romanoff repeated, her sharp eyes narrowing just a fraction.
"Yes. Steve A. Min," Rowan said without hesitation.
The name change wasn't cosmetic. It was practical. Someone who looked exactly like Captain America couldn't walk around using the same name without inviting trouble. Steve himself had agreed. After everything he'd lost, a clean identity felt less like a lie and more like a chance to breathe.
Steve extended his hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Steve A. Min."
"Natasha," she replied, shaking it, still clearly unconvinced.
If she'd run into a Captain-America lookalike on the street, she might've shrugged it off. But this was Rowan's school. A new teacher. No prior records. That combination set off alarms she couldn't fully silence.
Once the photos were taken and the paperwork completed, Natasha prepared to leave. Rowan walked her out and, as always, pressed the issue one last time.
"The offer still stands," he said casually. "If you ever want a different life, the door's open."
She didn't answer. Just nodded once and left.
That night, Professor X brought Rowan another file.
"Jessica Campbell. Ten years old," he said. "She survived a collision with a military transport carrying radioactive chemicals. Her parents didn't. She was in a coma for months. When she woke up, she had enhanced strength and flight."
He paused. "She's been adopted by the Jones family. They call her Jessica Jones now. I've observed her. She'd be safer here."
Rowan nodded without hesitation. "If you think she belongs here, bring her in."
Charles had decades of experience finding children like her and convincing families to let them go. Rowan trusted his judgment completely.
With Professor X's assets restored, SHIELD and HYDRA tied up fighting each other, and a new, capable teacher added to the roster, the school no longer needed Rowan micromanaging its survival.
So he did what he always did.
He went to sleep.
At this point, Rowan could control three bodies simultaneously without strain. His telepathic abilities had grown to the point where dividing his attention felt natural.
But just as he drifted off, that familiar sensation returned.
A sudden pull. A tearing pressure.
Another split.
Pain flared, then vanished. A new perspective snapped into focus.
And with it came six years of memories.
Drinking milk. Sleeping. Eating bamboo. Climbing trees. Lying in the sun.
Over and over.
"…You've got to be kidding me," Rowan thought.
He opened his eyes to iron bars and concrete.
The Bronx Zoo.
This time, his soul had latched onto the body of an adult panda that had died unexpectedly.
"A panda," he sighed internally. "Last time it was a magic cat. Now I'm a panda. Couldn't I just get a human body for once?"
Still, he adjusted quickly.
Cute or not, pandas were bears. Massive muscle mass. Crushing bite force. A full swing could shatter bone. The body itself was no joke.
And every one of Rowan's bodies shared physical enhancements.
Which meant all of them had just gained the strength of a bear.
"Could be worse," he admitted. "At least this body hits hard."
He flexed a paw thoughtfully. "I really should learn transformation magic."
Walking around New York as a panda wasn't exactly subtle. If he escaped on foot, he'd be mobbed in seconds.
Other worlds had solutions. Shape-shifting spells existed. They changed appearance, not power, but that was enough.
For now, he needed out.
He stood upright, approached the enclosure door, and raised a paw.
The lock snapped open.
No wand. Just gesture casting.
He stepped into the open yard. A magic circle flared briefly, and a pair of white wings unfolded from his back.
With a powerful beat, the panda lifted into the air and flew toward Manhattan.
This body's memories were useless. No context. No understanding of the world.
But Rowan knew the pattern.
A new body meant a special world.
And special worlds never stayed quiet for long.
Behind him, a zoo security guard froze mid-patrol, flashlight slipping from his hand.
"…Did that panda just fly?"
He stared at the empty enclosure for a long, terrible moment.
"No," he muttered weakly. "Nope. Not real. Definitely not real."
Then the panic hit.