MARVEL loner wants peace for his hobby’s

The afternoon sky over Queens was painted in hues of orange and pink, the sun lazily dipping below the skyline as the air grew cool. Seagulls squawked in the distance, their cries mingling with the ever-present hum of the city that never slept. It had been a long day at school, and the familiar exhaustion was beginning to settle in. Maximilian "Max" McKenna, all 186 centimeters of him, strode down the quiet street toward his modest apartment building, an unassuming structure tucked away from the busy avenues of the city.

Max's shaggy, dark blond hair fell messily into his eyes as he shoved his keys into the door of his apartment—a tiny two-room place with a kitchen and a bathroom. The apartment wasn't much, but that was part of the plan. It was a decoy, an ordinary facade for an otherwise extraordinary life. Once inside, Max locked the door behind him and immediately headed to the far corner of the living room. He muttered a quiet incantation under his breath, the familiar, soft hum of magic tingling at his fingertips.

With a pop, Max disappeared from the apartment, only to reappear a second later in the neighboring house, his true home hidden under a Fidelius Charm. The shift in space was instantaneous, from the cramped apartment to the lavish comfort of his three-story home. It felt good to be home.

The living room was spacious, bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun filtering through the large windows. Plush couches surrounded a massive fireplace, and a large flatscreen hung above the mantle, still turned off. The scent of polished wood and a faint trace of incense lingered in the air. Max tossed his backpack onto one of the chairs, stretching his arms above his head as he let out a sigh of relief. He had no plans for the evening beyond catching up on his schoolwork and indulging in some much-needed time with his projects.

His first stop was the desk near the window, where a stack of textbooks and notebooks sat waiting for him. He groaned at the sight of them but knew it had to be done. Math, history, physics—it all felt so trivial compared to what he had learned in his previous lives. In this life, he was just a 16-year-old high school student, though his memories spanned much longer.

As he opened his physics textbook, his mind wandered briefly to his first life—a life that felt both distant and oddly comforting. He had been a physics engineer then, in his thirties when he had died. He could still remember the hum of the machines, the calculations that had filled his days. He had loved it. The thrill of solving equations, designing complex systems, the elegance of the physical world's mechanics. It was a quiet life, simple but fulfilling. He had died young, though, only 36. A car accident, quick and brutal. He'd barely had time to process it before he was gone, only to wake up again, not in his original world, but in a completely different one.

That second life had been a whirlwind. Magic. Real magic. He had reincarnated into the Harry Potter universe, of all places, a universe he had once believed to be mere fiction. He had gone through all seven years at Hogwarts, had lived through the trials and tribulations of being a wizard, and had even fought in the final battle against Voldemort. The memories of that life were still sharp, still painful. He had become an Auror, trained to defend the wizarding world, and had died at just 25 during the Battle of Hogwarts. That had been his most traumatic death, the chaos and destruction seared into his mind.

But now? Now he was in this world. His third life. It was 2010, and the world was on the brink of something bigger, something that he knew was coming. He'd heard the name Tony Stark mentioned on the news recently. Stark Industries, the billionaire playboy genius, and soon-to-be Iron Man. Max knew Stark's fate. Within days, Tony would be kidnapped in Afghanistan, leading to the creation of the first Iron Man suit. It was a pivotal moment in this world—one that would change everything.

Max couldn't help but wonder if he should interfere. Should he let events play out as they did in the movies, or should he try to help? He had the power, after all. With his magical abilities, enhanced by years of training at Hogwarts, and the ancient knowledge he'd acquired in this life, particularly from the Stargate universe, he could easily step in and make a difference. But was it his place?

His stomach growled, interrupting his thoughts. Sighing, Max closed his textbooks, knowing he'd return to them later. It was time to eat. He made his way to the kitchen, a sleek, modern space with granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. Cooking was one of the few mundane activities he actually enjoyed. It grounded him, made him feel connected to this life.

Tonight, he decided to make something simple but satisfying—pasta carbonara. He retrieved a block of Parmesan from the fridge, along with eggs, pancetta, and fresh parsley. His hands moved deftly as he chopped the pancetta into small cubes, the knife's rhythmic chop, chop, chop echoing in the quiet kitchen. He tossed the pancetta into a hot pan, letting it sizzle as he boiled water for the pasta. The smell of the browning meat filled the kitchen, rich and savory, mixing with the earthy scent of the freshly grated Parmesan.

As he cooked, his mind drifted back to his current life. This life felt… strange sometimes. It was the first time he had both the memories and experiences of his previous lives fully intact. In some ways, it was overwhelming. The knowledge of advanced physics from his first life, magic from his second, and now the ancient technology from Stargate that he had mysteriously acquired in this life. He wasn't sure how it had happened, but one day, the knowledge of the Ancients had just… clicked. It was as if something inside him had unlocked. Now, he knew how to build devices like the Stargate and Puddle Jumpers, technology that didn't even belong to this world.

When the pasta was finished, Max drained it and added it to the pan with the pancetta, cracking eggs into the mixture and stirring in the cheese. The creamy sauce clung to the strands of pasta, and he finished it off with a sprinkle of fresh parsley. He plated the dish, sat down at the kitchen table, and dug in.

As he ate, he couldn't stop thinking about the possibilities that lay ahead. Should he continue living quietly, building small trinkets and toys to sell in the markets for some extra money? Or should he embrace the power he had—power that could change the course of history in this world? The metals he created in his Alchemy lab—gold, silver, even rare metals like vibranium and adamantium—were valuable enough to fund any venture he chose, but money wasn't the issue. It was about responsibility.

After finishing his meal, Max washed up and headed to the basement, where his most prized projects were stored. The Alchemy Room was one of the largest in the house, magically expanded to be about a hundred times its original size. Shelves upon shelves of metal ingots lined the walls—everything from copper and steel to gold, vibranium, and even Naquadah, a rare metal from the Stargate universe. In the center of the room stood a half-completed Stargate, modeled after the one from Atlantis. It was massive, made of a combination of metals and reinforced with magic to make it even more durable. The glyphs were painstakingly carved into the metal, and he'd been working on it for months.

To the side of the room, three small spacecraft sat under protective covers—Puddle Jumpers, just like the ones from Stargate. They were sleek, gray ships, compact and designed for short-distance travel through the Stargate. Max had been working on perfecting them for a while, integrating both magic and technology into their systems.

He walked over to the Stargate and examined the unfinished sections. He still had a lot of work to do, but with a wave of his hand, he 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 Tony Stark. In a few days, Stark would be captured, and everything would change. Maybe… maybe it was time for Max to step out of the shadows. But not yet. First, Stark had to build the suit. Only then would Max consider intervening.

With a final glance at the glowing Stargate, Max turned away.