MARVEL loner wants peace for his hobby’s READER EDIT

The afternoon sky over Queens blazed with the brilliant hues of a setting sun, streaks of orange, pink, and violet mingling against the backdrop of fading blue. The warmth of the day lingered in the air, though the cool breeze that swept through the streets promised the chill of evening wasn't far behind. As Max McKenna walked down the familiar street toward his apartment, the rhythmic squawks of seagulls pierced the relative quiet, blending with the distant roar of traffic.

Maximilian "Max" McKenna, all six feet and two inches of him, trudged on with the kind of exhaustion that only a long school day could bring. His dark blond hair, messy and tousled, fell into his eyes despite several half-hearted attempts to shove it aside. There was a heaviness in his step, the weight of the day compounded by the quiet burdens of a life few could understand—three lives, in fact.

As Max approached his apartment building, an unassuming structure tucked away from the busy avenues of Queens, he couldn't help but feel a pang of irritation. This place, this tiny two-room apartment, was an elaborate lie. It was a decoy for anyone watching, an ordinary cover for the extraordinary truth that lurked just beneath the surface of his otherwise normal existence. He pulled out his keys and slid them into the door, stepping inside with practiced ease.

The apartment was exactly as it should be: small, cramped, and intentionally mundane. A kitchenette, a tiny bathroom, and a bedroom barely big enough for a twin bed. But Max didn't waste any time on this charade. The moment he locked the door behind him, he headed straight to the far corner of the living room, his fingers already tingling with the familiar hum of magic.

He whispered a quiet incantation under his breath, and in an instant, the room shifted. With a soft pop, Max vanished from the apartment, reappearing a second later in a far grander space. His true home, hidden under the impenetrable magic of a Fidelius Charm, stretched before him—a sprawling three-story house filled with the kind of luxury that stood in stark contrast to his high school student façade.

The shift in scenery was always jarring, though he'd grown accustomed to it over the years. From the drab, utilitarian apartment to the lavish comfort of his real home, it felt like stepping from one world to another. The living room was expansive, its walls lined with windows that let in the warm afternoon sunlight. Plush leather couches were arranged around a massive fireplace, the scent of burning wood and a faint trace of incense hanging in the air. It was peaceful here, a sanctuary from the noise and chaos of the outside world.

Max tossed his backpack onto one of the chairs and stretched his arms above his head, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. For a moment, he simply stood there, basking in the quiet. He had no grand plans for the evening—just schoolwork, and perhaps some time spent tinkering with his latest projects. The latter always won out in the end.

The first order of business, however, was at his desk by the window. A pile of textbooks and notebooks awaited him, each one a reminder of the triviality of his current existence. Math, history, physics—it all seemed laughably simple compared to the knowledge he carried from his previous lives. With a groan, Max dropped into the chair, flipping open his physics textbook.

As he skimmed the equations, his thoughts drifted to his first life, a life that now felt like a distant dream. He'd been a physics engineer in his early thirties when he had died, a sudden and brutal end in a car accident. The memory of it still haunted him—the screech of tires, the crunch of metal, and the abrupt cessation of everything he had known. There had been no warning, no moment of clarity. One second he was alive, and the next… gone.

When he had awoken, it hadn't been in his own world. No, his second life had taken him somewhere far stranger: the wizarding world of Harry Potter. At first, he had thought it a dream or perhaps a cruel afterlife. But the magic, the spells, the very air itself had proven real. Hogwarts had become his new reality, and over the course of seven years, he had honed his skills in magic, becoming an Auror and fighting in the Battle of Hogwarts. That life had ended too, cut short at the age of 25 during the chaotic final battle against Voldemort.

And now, he was here. His third life, in a world that seemed so familiar, yet held the promise of something much greater. The year was 2010, and Max could feel the weight of destiny pressing in on him. Stark Industries had just made the news again, and soon, Tony Stark would be kidnapped in Afghanistan, marking the birth of Iron Man. It was a turning point in this world's history, a moment that would set off a chain of events that Max knew all too well.

The question was: should he interfere?

He had the power, after all. Magic coursed through him, refined by years of training at Hogwarts. And then there was the knowledge—the ancient, advanced technology that had inexplicably appeared in his mind at the start of this life. The secrets of the Ancients, a race of beings from the Stargate universe, had become his own. Their technological marvels, their understanding of the universe, it had all clicked into place as though some hidden part of him had been unlocked.

Max leaned back in his chair, staring blankly at the open textbook before him. The possibilities were endless. With the knowledge he possessed, he could reshape this world, guide it down a different path, one where magic and advanced technology coexisted in harmony. He could intervene in Stark's life, help him avoid some of the darker moments that lay ahead. Or he could stand back, let things unfold as they had in the movies, and remain in the shadows.

His stomach growled, pulling him from his thoughts. With a sigh, Max closed his textbook and stood, heading toward the kitchen. There would be time to think about Stark and the future later. For now, he needed food.

The kitchen was sleek and modern, with granite countertops and gleaming stainless steel appliances. Despite his extraordinary life, cooking remained one of Max's favorite pastimes. It was simple, grounding, and gave him a sense of normalcy in a world that was anything but. Tonight, he decided on pasta carbonara—a quick, easy meal that was both satisfying and comforting.

He moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, chopping pancetta into small cubes, cracking eggs into a bowl, and grating Parmesan cheese. The rhythmic chop of the knife, the sizzle of the pancetta in the pan, it all worked to soothe the jumble of thoughts in his mind. As the rich, savory aroma of cooking meat filled the kitchen, Max couldn't help but smile. For all the weight of his three lifetimes, moments like this reminded him that some things were still wonderfully simple.

As he boiled the pasta, his thoughts drifted once more to the knowledge of the Ancients. The Ancients were a scientific race, one of the most advanced civilizations in the universe, who had spent millions of years traveling between galaxies, conducting research, and perfecting their technology. In this life, Max had found himself inheriting their knowledge, as though it had been implanted in his mind from the moment of his reincarnation. He knew how to build devices that far surpassed anything on Earth—Stargates, energy shields, even spacecraft like the Puddle Jumpers used in the Stargate series.

It was overwhelming at times, this vast well of information. But Max had always been good at compartmentalizing. He focused on the task at hand, draining the pasta and adding it to the pan with the pancetta, stirring in the egg mixture and Parmesan until a creamy sauce clung to the noodles. A sprinkle of fresh parsley finished the dish, and he sat down at the kitchen table, ready to eat.

As he twirled the pasta around his fork, his mind wandered back to the looming question: should he stay in the shadows, working on his projects in peace, or should he step into the spotlight and shape the future?

Max had never been one to seek the limelight. In his first life, as a physicist, he had been content to work quietly, solving equations and designing systems in the background. In his second life, as an Auror, he had been thrust into the spotlight out of necessity, but he had never craved fame or glory. Now, in this third life, he found himself leaning toward a quieter existence once more. His alchemical experiments, his technological creations, they were his passions, his hobbies. He enjoyed the process of building, of creating something out of nothing, and there was a deep satisfaction in that work.

After finishing his meal, Max cleaned up the kitchen and made his way to the basement, where his most prized projects were housed. The Alchemy Room was the largest space in the house, magically expanded to be a hundred times its original size. Shelves upon shelves of metal ingots lined the walls—copper, steel, gold, silver, vibranium, and even naquadah, a rare metal from the Stargate universe.

At the center of the room stood his greatest work-in-progress: a Stargate, modeled after the one from the Atlantis expedition. It was massive, a towering ring of metal and runes, half-finished but already a testament to his skill. Max had been working on it for months, painstakingly carving the glyphs into the metal and reinforcing the structure with magic to make it even more durable.

Nearby, three Puddle Jumpers sat under protective covers, their sleek, gray forms shimmering in the dim light of the room. The Puddle Jumpers were compact spacecraft designed for short-distance travel through the Stargate. They were about the size of a large van, with smooth, rounded edges and an aerodynamic shape. Each one was equipped with cloaking technology, as well as a powerful weapons system that could be activated at a moment's notice. Max had integrated both magic and technology into their systems, creating a hybrid that surpassed anything even the Ancients had accomplished.

He walked over to the Stargate, running his fingers over the unfinished sections. It was a labor of love, this project, and it represented the culmination of his knowledge from all three lives. With a wave of his hand, Max summoned his magic, watching as the metal shifted and bent to his will. Slowly, piece by piece, the Stargate began to take shape, the runes glowing softly as the magic bound them together.

As he worked, his thoughts returned to the question of Tony Stark. In just a few days, Stark would be captured, and the world would begin its march toward the era of superheroes. Max had always been a fan of the Marvel films in his first life, but living through it was a different experience entirely. He had the power to intervene, to change the course of history, but he wasn't sure if it was his place.

Perhaps, for now, it was best to wait. Stark's capture and the creation of the Iron Man suit were pivotal moments. Max knew that Stark's journey of redemption and transformation was essential to the events that would follow. Maybe once Stark had built the suit, then Max could consider stepping in. But not yet.

With a final glance at the glowing Stargate, Max turned away, his mind still buzzing with possibilities. The world was on the brink of something monumental, and Max McKenna, with the knowledge of three lifetimes, was at the heart of it.