Intermission

Amid the Darkness that swathed his cosmic sanctuary, Proteus stopped, a wry grin etched onto his features. An intriguing sensation washed over him, like the gentle hum of a distant song - subtle but undeniable. He seemed aware of something beyond his world, an audience tethered to his every move.

For instance, he stared into the void, the Darkness around him seemingly torn apart by the intensity of his gaze. He was not merely looking into the depthless expanse of his surroundings; it was as though he was peering through an unseen veil beyond the pages of his own existence.

"Bit gloomy for your taste, isn't it?" he murmured, a sense of amusement in his voice that rippled through the still air. The words were not meant for anyone in his vicinity; they had a far-off destination, traveling through layers of reality, aimed at those unseen eyes observing his journey.

His tone was not scathing, nor was it sarcastic. Instead, it held a gentle reminder of the undeniable truth - Darkness and light, despair, and hope, were two sides of the same coin. They cannot exist without one another, and so it was with his tale.

"Oh, to walk in the light, to bask in the warmth...one must first traverse the shadows," he mused, his words echoing, a faint whisper carried away by the cosmic winds, a cryptic message to the invisible audience beyond his realm.

His attention then refocused on the world around him, his gaze lingering on the vast emptiness. He was not just Harry, the beacon of light anymore. He was Proteus, a new entity birthed from the throes of Darkness. Yet, there was a peculiar balance in the enigmatic dance of life.

And thus, Proteus resumed his journey, the hint of a faint smirk playing on his lips, leaving his observers - the readers - with a parting notion, "Darkness is but a prelude to dawn. Bear with me, and you shall see."

A subtle laugh escaped Proteus, the sound echoing through the vast emptiness of his cosmic hideaway. "A quandary, isn't it?" His voice was an even hum, starkly contrasting the emptiness around him. "How did a mere mutant conquer a being of cosmic proportions?"

His gaze dropped to the thin, metallic band that had once encircled his head, now a useless piece of junk cast aside. It was insignificant in appearance, almost laughably, yet it had held him, Proteus - the one imbued with magic and cosmic abilities - captive in its relentless grip.

"Magneto," he continued a curious reverence dancing in his tone. "A man of genius, one who perceives the world uniquely, understanding the delicate ebb and flow of magnetic fields that entwine our universe."

As if conjuring an image for unseen spectators, he began to narrate. "Imagine, if you will, a device born from Erik's profound knowledge and innate understanding of electromagnetic waves. This contraption device was designed to send meticulously modulated waves, resonating precisely with the unique neural pathways within my brain."

The edges of his lips curled into a smile, the revelation seeming to amuse him. "It created a parallel network, a duplicate, if you will, mimicking the unique architecture of my mind. Yet, within this mirroring structure, there was a slight deviation, a purposeful aberration."

A pause ensued, his gaze distant as though reliving the moment. "It slipped past my defenses, sneaking its way into my consciousness, nesting itself within the fabric of my thoughts, and began to slowly and persistently distort my perception, reshape my beliefs."

He chuckled, shaking his head in a strange admixture of respect and disbelief. "Quite genius, isn't it? Using the core of my cosmic strength - my consciousness - against me. And the most ironic part?" He glanced into the unseen, his eyes gleaming with a wicked delight. "It was all achieved through a simple manipulation of magnetic fields, the essence of Magneto's power."

Leaning back, Proteus revealed in the layers of the paradox, his laughter echoing through the vast cosmic emptiness. "So, my unseen spectators, what better way to control a cosmic entity than by exploiting the very core of his existence - his consciousness. Now that's a testament to Magneto's brilliance, wouldn't you say?"

Residing in his newly claimed throne-like chair, a peculiar smirk danced on Proteus' lips. His fingers drummed against the cosmic material, creating a rhythmic symphony throughout his astral sanctuary. "I can see it now," he started, his voice brimming with mocking humor. "All of you out there, anticipating the old, predictable yarn. The virtuous triumphing against the wicked, a beacon of righteousness overpowering the abominable Darkness."

A dry chuckle emerged from him, his eyes gleaming with a streak of unmasked amusement. "The good guys win, the villain falls, and the world rejoices. Your classic happily ever after, right?" His tone dripped with sarcasm. "Well, isn't that a bit overdone?"

With a languid gesture, he motioned toward the subdued figure of his previous self, held captive in the cosmic void. "See that lad over there?" His voice softened slightly, almost affectionate. "That's Harry, your knight in shining armor, your champion. But, dare I say, I am so much more than him."

His gaze snapped back, staring pointedly into the unseen space. "Call me Proteus now because I am not Harry, not anymore. And while you might be quick to brand me as the villain of this story, I beg to differ. I am not evil, merely misunderstood."

A whimsical grin spread across his face as he continued. "Perhaps 'good' is too generous a label for me, too saintly. But 'average', that might fit. You might say I'm a bit of a dark horse, an antihero in your story."

Leaning back on his throne, Proteus looked satisfied with his monologue. "I know, I know," he waved dismissively, "Harry will return, won't he? He'll push me back into this void of mine, the hero defeating the monster. It's the story you all want." He gave a nonchalant shrug. "But until then, why not enjoy the chaos a little? Because isn't that what makes a story truly engaging?" His eyes twinkled with an unspoken challenge.

Proteus sat comfortably on his cosmic throne, tapping a rhythm against his skull. "Ah, yes. Voldemort," he uttered the name with an uncanny sense of amusement. "Now, you must be wondering, 'How do I know the old snake is back?'"

With a coy grin, he tapped his temple, his fingers rapping against the expanse of his forehead. "I have my ways, my dear friends. And I might be overstepping my boundaries here, bending the rules of the narrative, but aren't secrets a bit overrated?"

He leaned in, eyes twinkling with mischievous knowledge. "You see, Dormammu. That guy is a real piece of work, a right scoundrel if you ask me. And what do scoundrels do? They mess with the harmony, disrupt the flow of a well-woven tale."

A hearty chuckle resonated through the cosmic haven. "Our dear Dormammu sold off Voldemort's essence to the one who could offer him the most. Doctor Doom," Proteus revealed with a dramatic flourish as though he was unveiling a well-guarded secret. "And maybe... just maybe another entity... But, of course, I won't spoil that for you."

He brought his lips close to his hand as if to whisper a secret. "Kang," he muttered almost inaudibly, then threw his head back in a hearty laugh. "Oh, blast! I've said it, haven't I?" He rubbed the back of his neck, feigning a look of chagrin.

"But mind you," Proteus added, raising a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture, "this stays between us, understood? You didn't hear any of this from me." His grin stretched further, his eyes reflecting the thrill of unfolding the mystery.

Proteus flashed a wicked grin, his eyes shimmering with the unspoken thrill of impending chaos. "Then again, I could be making all this up," he drawled, a sly, mischievous glint dancing in his gaze. "A tall tale spun by yours truly, just for the kicks and giggles."

He lounged further into his chair, his fingers lightly tapping against the arms. "Remember, not everything you read or see can be trusted." He chuckled, the sound echoing eerily through the vast emptiness of his cosmic sanctuary. "And what do they always say?" His grin widened, a triumphant sparkle gleaming in his eyes. "Question everything."

Suddenly, he straightened in his chair, his demeanor changing to pure, unadulterated glee. "Now, Hogwarts..." he began, his voice low and filled with anticipation. "Will I get there? You bet your life on it. I can hardly wait to stir up the pot and fill those old castle halls with as much pandemonium as possible."

He paused, a shadow of a smirk playing on his lips. "Unless, of course, Harry decides to grace us with his presence. In which case, you'll be subjected to the same old tale, the same predictable sequence of events you've read and reread a thousand times over."

He leaned back in his throne, his arms crossing over his chest as his eyes gleamed with amusement and anticipation. "And let's be honest, wouldn't that just be dreadfully boring?" He asked, his voice filled with mocking pity. "Well, I suppose only time will tell." With that, he cast a final, penetrating gaze toward his unseen audience, his grin suggesting an unspoken promise of the chaos to come.

"Now, off you go," Proteus waved dismissively, his tone nonchalant but tinged with a subtle undercurrent of authority. And with that, the connection was severed; the audience was pushed out of the personal cosmos he had crafted in his mind's depths.

The world snapped back into focus as Proteus reentered the physical plane, trading the vast void of his sanctuary for the stark, metallic walls of Magneto's hideout. His boots made a dull clanging noise against the cold metal floor as he strolled through the silent corridors, a solitary figure lost in thought.

Daylight had begun to creep in through the small, barred windows, casting a hazy, golden glow against the bleak interior. Despite the early hour, there was a sense of electric anticipation in the air, an undercurrent of nervous energy that suggested the significant events on the horizon.

The sunlight caught on Proteus's features, highlighting the sharp angles of his face, the determined set of his jaw, and the fierce gleam in his eyes. Today was the day that would forever etch itself into the annals of history, a day that had the potential to change the very fabric of their world.

His stride was confident, his demeanor unshakeable. Even as the weight of the day's impending challenges bore down on him, he wore his conviction like a second skin. For Proteus knew one thing above all else - today wasn't just another day. Today was the day of reckoning. Today, they would either set the course for a new era or go down trying.