...Pacific...132 nautical miles from Oregon. A military ship has already sent a video. There's light, noise, gamma, xray, emp type stuff, everything." He answered, frantically typing.

"On screen, now. The video." Fury roared.

"On screen in three, two, one." Another tech called.

A placid ocean showed on screen, obviously being filmed in the hands of a sailor. "What a beautiful day to be serving America out on the-" the sailors voice cut off, obscured by the roar of noise that a white ball on the horizon produced. Then a shockwave followed, cracking the lens and making him drop it. The ship rocked. "THE FUCK WAS THAT!" The sailor yelled, obviously hearing damaged. The camera went off, knocked out by an approaching wave of energy.

"Sir, the sensors are saying that it's all gone. Enough radiation to make Chernobyl, Nagasaki, and Hiroshima combined look like a piece of burnt toast, just gone." The tech called.

"Confirm!" Fury roared, furiously typing as well.

"Confirmed, Sir!" The tech yelled back.

"I want eyes on the entire area, on, in, and above water! Yesterday!" Fury roared again.

"Drones deploying in five minutes sir. And before you ask, no, I cannot make them go faster. Orbital cameras realigning. And the nearest subs are all approaching." Another yelled.

"Get us moving. I want us as close as is safe, in the air, full battle stations ASAP!" Fury roared.

"We're already in motion, Sir!" Another tech yelled. "Everyone is on standby, sir, at battle stations." Another yelled.

"Sir, receiving secure comm channel from one of our Supersonic birds. The water looks absolutely normal to the eye and to the plane's sensors, Sir." Another yelled.

"Sir, a sub pod has found a body in the water, a literal mile from the surface. Fully clothed, Caucasian male." Another called.

"Get him out of that water. Bring him to the surface, I want to interrogate him if he's alive and dissect him if he's dead!" Fury roared.

"That was an old message, sir, ten minutes. The sub that has him is already on the surface, and he's alive. Barely. They say that every bone in his body is shattered, he has severe nerve damage, nearly every organ in his body is ruptured, he has burns, cuts, and open wounds. But he is alive." The tech replied.

"Get us in the water!" Fury roared again.

"ETA fifteen minutes, sir. We'll descend as soon as we get there." Another called.

"Sir, they say he's healing at an incredible pace. The surgeon was operating on him and witnessed a destroyed liver regrow right before her eyes. His bones have all already fixed." The comms tech called.

"Fuck! An enhanced of some kind. Probably from the explosion." Fury shouted. "This just went level 15 classified. You are not to ever mention this to anyone in existence ever. If you do, and we find out, you'll never see the light of day again!" Fury roared "Get him onboard now!"

"A transport is on its way. ETA thirty seconds." Another tech yelled.

"Sir, they say he's perfectly alright now. Better actually. He gained six inches in height, a literal 100 pounds of pure muscle, and he is awake now, despite a quart of sleep meds in his veins. Woozy, though." The tech from before hollered.

"Transport has him and is returning." Another yelled.

"Good. Get those soldiers debriefed now! Can't let them talk." Fury shouted. "I want to be kept abreast of every thing going on in this. I'm going to interrogate him now. Hill, with me." He said, calm now.


I came to my senses on a small transport of some kind, over an ocean, going up into the air. "Where am I?" I asked woozily.

"Shield transport." A buff agent next to me replied.

"Up you get. We have places to be." Another said.

I tried to stand, then promptly collapsed. The soldiers caught me, then picked me up and put me back on the stretcher before wheeling me out. I watched the lights of a hallway pass by until they lowered me to enter a door, where they attached the shackles on my hands to the table and left. A black man who looked disturbingly like Shacklebolt entered the room, sitting on the other side of the table. My head cleared. "Who are you?" I asked clearly.

"Classified. Who are you?" He answered.

"Lord Harry Potter. Where am I?" I answered.

"S.H.E.I.L.D. HQ, interrogation rooms. Where are you from?"

"London, England, though I was raised in Surrey. Why am I here?"

"You were found at the site of a massive explosion, a mile under the sea. Do you know anything about it?"

"Well, actually I do. I caused it. By traveling between universes." I answered casually.

"Shit. Why?" "I'm depressed. I thought I would die, when nothing else could kill me." I answered. "What do you want?"

"Your cooperation. You nearly did die. Every bone in you body was shattered, severe nerve damage, burns, cuts, holes in your body, ruptured organs, and no pulse when found. How are you alive?"

"Shit luck. Can I go?"

"Go where? You're from a different universe. You've got nowhere to go."

"Yes, well, I guess 300 tons of gold, gems, and priceless artifacts, not to mention ten phd's couldn't get me a place."

"300 tons? Where?"

"If you'll uncuff me, I can show you. The defenses would kill you, otherwise." I answered. To my surprise, he reached over and unlocked the handcuffs. I reached into my shirt, pulled out my necklace, sat it on the floor, and unshrunk my trunk. Then I descended into the depths of my vault compartment, calling "Follow me!" He got up and climbed down the ladder, then turned and his eye twitched. "The piles of gold coins probably did that. Or maybe it was that pile of emeralds I have." I mused to myself.

"Ok then." He muttered, then we climbed out and sat back down. "Ten PhDs?" He asked.

"Yeah. Thermonuclear Physics, Particle Physics Theory, bunch of engineering, medicine, other stuff. Could get more."

"Ok. How old are you? You don't look a day over seventeen."

"Twenty-eight." I corrected.

"Can I interest you in a job? With S.H.E.I.L.D.?"

"Why?"

"I know, its not like you need it, although we could use you. Smart, enhanced healing of some kind, not to mention shrinking and space-time folding tech." He answered.

"Let me think about it. I want to get situated in this universe first. Confirm my degrees, see what the economy is, travel your Earth, maybe get to know some people. You can keep an eye on me, although I won't commit crimes. No tech though. Won't work." I answered easily.

"Sounds good to me. Although if you commit crimes, or tell people about S.H.E.I.L.D., we'll get you." Fury answered. "We'll call you in about six months?" He asked standing and extending his hand.

"Yes. Can you to take me to shore?" I asked as I shook his hand.

"Yes." he practically growled.

I picked my trunk up, shrinking it as I did, hanging it back around my neck. Thirty minutes later I stood in Oregon, my identity in hand, waiting to catch a bus from the place they'd dropped me to an automobile dealership. When the bus finally arrived, I handed the driver a single galleon, smoothing it into a gold circle as I did so. He looked at it and asked "Where to?"

"Motorcycle dealership." I answered, kinda missing Sirius' old thing, which I had completely destroyed in a suicide attempt.

"Nearest ones ten miles out, two off my route. Even though its late and your the only one here, it'll be a little extra." He replied.

"That is much more than the standard bus fare. Seeing as its pure 24 karat gold." I answered.

"Alright." He grumbled. "Be about twenty minutes."

"Ok. I'll wait". I sat in the back, watching the city go by.

Twenty minutes later the driver called out "Suzuki Motorcycles, Portland location."

"Thanks." I replied as I descended the steps. I entered the building right before they closed, walking immediately over to a sleek black bike in the back.

The salesman approached, asking "Can I help you?"

"Yes, actually. How much?" I gestured at the bike.

"That bike sells for fifteen grand, sir." He answered.

"Perfect. I'll take it." I replied.

"What? There is paperwork and stuff." He practically squawked.

"Make it twenty and skip the paperwork." I replied.

"Ok. He answered. I'm the last one here, so I can just say it was stolen or something, have insurance replace it, then keep all twenty." He muttered.

"Whatever, mate." I pulled out my wallet and began counting out five hundreds. "Nineteen, nineteen and a half, twenty." I handed him the stack of bills and began pushing the bike towards the bay door. "Gas?" I called.

"Around back." He replied.

I filled the bike and began zooming down the highway, heading towards California.