Marvel Universe. The Academy.
"I finally cracked the plasma railgun."
After five straight days of work, sleeping barely an hour a night, Rowan Mercer finally let himself breathe. His panda incarnation had confirmed the weapon's stability and destructive output. The concept was no longer theoretical. It worked.
"Next," he murmured, "it's time to upgrade the school properly."
The academy had been running on foundations laid years ago. Solid ones, yes, but time never stopped moving forward. Both magic and technology had advanced, and Rowan now had the means to bring everything up to a new standard.
On the magical side, his growth had been explosive. New spells, deeper control, and a wand crafted from world-grade materials had pushed his spellcasting efficiency far beyond what it once was. On the technological side, Bruce Banner and Betty Ross had finally been given room to work. They might not surpass Beast's original genius, but modernizing the academy's infrastructure was well within their reach.
Some of the old systems were still astonishing even by today's standards. The X-Jet alone had impressed Tony Stark. The combat simulation chambers were decades ahead of most military tech. But progress didn't care about nostalgia. There were better ways now.
Rowan stepped outside. Classes were still in session. The school population had grown again, a few more gifted children brought in under Professor Xavier's watchful eye.
With a gesture, Rowan dismantled the old concealment spells and ritual barriers surrounding the academy.
He raised his wand.
"Fidelius."
The spell settled over the entire complex like an invisible law. This wasn't simple concealment. It rewrote the rules. Without the Secret Keeper's consent, no spell, sensor, or technology could ever locate the academy.
Then came the second layer.
"Unplottable."
The school vanished from every map, mundane or otherwise. Coordinates meant nothing now. Even if someone searched blindly, they would never know what they were standing in front of.
Only then did Rowan take to the air, wings unfolding as he began weaving a new ritual barrier. This one wasn't meant to hide the academy. It was built to endure. If someone carpet-bombed the entire region, this would be the line that mattered.
When he finished, Rowan descended into the open grounds before the main structure.
Waiting there were over a hundred massive metal statues, each forged from top-tier alloys at Tony Stark's insistence. Dragons. Hellhounds. Hydras. Nine-tailed foxes. Phoenixes. Qilin. Beasts drawn from myth, both Eastern and Western.
"Mimetic Transfiguration."
One by one, Rowan walked past them, touching each with his wand. Metal flowed. Magic took root. The statues stirred, awakened, and became something more than inert guardians.
Ordinarily, enchanting constructs of that scale would have been impossible. But the amplification provided by his wand made it trivial. Even so, Rowan knew the limits. No wand could amplify power forever. One day, it would become unnecessary.
And that was fine.
As the animated guardians dispersed and concealed themselves across the academy grounds, a familiar voice sounded behind him.
"Not bad," Thor said, holding a copy of The Song of War. "More interesting than the spells we used in Asgard."
Rowan smiled and waved the last construct into position. "How are you holding up? Tried lifting the hammer lately?"
Thor nodded, eyes bright. "This morning. It moved. Not much, but it moved. I understand now why Father abandoned endless war. If nothing goes wrong, I'll reclaim Mjolnir soon."
The academy had changed.
And so had everyone inside it.