Magical Marvel: The Rise of Arthur Hayes

Arthur knew that his plan for a cool, mysterious encounter was in tatters. His attempt at gauging her power had turned into a humiliating demonstration of his own relative weakness in a purely physical fight against a true superhuman. He was still standing only because hidden magic was absorbing the worst of the blows.

"Right then," he muttered, straightening up despite the pain. "Lesson learned. I need proper combat training."

But enough was enough. He wasn't interested in being her punching bag any longer. His pride stung, and his initial curiosity had curdled into deep annoyance. He'd had enough of this unplanned, one-sided brawl.

Reaching into his pocket, Arthur pulled out a small, multifaceted crystal—not one of his detectors, but a specifically crafted single-use artifact. He crushed it in his fist, feeling the magic pulse through his fingers.

A wave of invisible, silent energy radiated outwards from him. Vers paused mid-strike, a flicker of confusion crossing her face as she felt... nothing. But Arthur knew its effect. 

Anyone normal within a hundred-meter radius—the security guard, any early morning joggers or paper delivery drivers—would have instantly fallen into a deep, magically induced sleep. Any mundane recording devices—security cameras, traffic cams—would have overloaded, their data corrupted. He couldn't risk breaking the Statute of Secrecy or having SHIELD review footage of overt magic use. The area was now temporarily sanitised.

He straightened up, wiping the fresh blood from his lip with the back of his hand. The battered, resilient facade dropped, replaced by cold, focused anger. His eyes, already darkened by his disguise, seemed to grow even darker.

"Since words can't convince you," he said quietly, "I'll have to try other methods. My turn."

But before Arthur could move, Vers charged forward, fist glowing with photon energy, prepared to deliver another devastating blow. However, Arthur was done being her target dummy.

Crack.

The sharp sound of Apparition split the air. Suddenly, Arthur was behind her. She felt rather than saw the kick coming—imbued not just with physical force but with focused magical power. It connected squarely with her back, sending her flying forward with far more force than his earlier blows, crashing heavily onto the hood of the same sedan he'd dented.

She pushed herself up, coughing, staring at him with wide, shocked eyes. The disguise was still in place, but the power radiating from him was undeniable.

"A mage," she breathed, realisation dawning in her eyes. "We've got intel on your kind. Dangerous. Unpredictable. Never thought I'd actually encounter one."

Her fists ignited again, brighter this time. She unleashed a rapid volley of photon blasts. Arthur didn't try to block physically. Objects flew seemingly of their own accord—a rubbish bin lid, loose hubcaps, chunks of asphalt—intercepting the blasts with uncanny precision.

Crack. He vanished again, reappearing to her left, another magically propelled kick sending her staggering sideways.

Crack. He was behind her again, a pulse of telekinetic force slamming her against the Blockbuster wall.

The tables had turned. Where Vers had dominated the physical contest, Arthur's magic gave him a decisive advantage. Each time she tried to target him, he would vanish with a crack only to reappear elsewhere. When she fired photon blasts, he either dodged with unnatural speed or conjured objects to intercept them.

"Not so confident now, are we?" Arthur taunted, feeling a twinge of satisfaction at turning the tide. "Ready to talk like civilised beings yet?"

After several more moments of this frustrating, one-sided display, Arthur seemed to tire of the game. He stopped his teleporting attacks and simply raised a hand. Vers found herself completely immobilised, held fast by invisible bonds far stronger than before.

"Had enough?" Arthur asked, his voice calm again, though his eyes still held a dangerous edge.

Vers struggled against the magical restraints, raw power flaring around her fists, but the bonds held firm. "Never!" she spat, defiant despite her predicament.

Arthur sighed. "Stubborn, aren't you? Proper determined." He waved his hand again. 

The metal poles holding the streetlights warped and twisted, snaking down like metallic ropes to wrap around her limbs, tightening securely. Simultaneously, thick electrical cables erupted from conduits beneath the pavement, binding her further, pinning her on the ground. She was thoroughly, almost excessively, restrained.

Arthur walked closer, surveying his handiwork—the alien super-soldier bound tightly. She could barely move a muscle. He scratched his head, a slightly sheepish grin replacing the anger. "Right. Probably overdid that a bit. Sorry about that."

He walked up to her and looked down at her bound form. "Ready to accept defeat and have a proper chat?"

"Never!" Vers snarled, struggling uselessly. "I would never accept defeat to a pervert!"

"A what?" Arthur's eyes widened in genuine shock. "I'm not a—this isn't—" He looked at how he'd restrained her and suddenly understood the accusation. His face flushed with embarrassment. "Oh, for God's sake! I had to be sure you couldn't attack me again! You pack quite a punch, and I really don't know what other alien tech or tricks you might have up your sleeve. Needed to ensure you couldn't retaliate while we talked."

"Likely story, pervert!" she spat back.

"I'm not a—look, can we just stop?" Arthur pleaded, suddenly feeling terribly awkward about the situation he'd created. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "I really didn't come here looking for a fight. Honestly. And I know you need to contact your... friends, superiors, whatever. I'm happy to help with that if you'll stop trying to blast me to smithereens."

Vers glared at him, still straining against the magically animated metal. After a long moment, she seemed to deflate slightly, the fight going out of her. "Fine. Let me go. But stay well away from me."

"Deal." With another wave of Arthur's hand, the streetlight poles snapped back into place, the electrical cables retracted underground, and the magical bonds vanished. Vers cautiously pushed herself away from the wall, rubbing her wrists, never taking her suspicious eyes off him.

"What are you?" she asked bluntly.

"I told you—I'm human," Arthur replied. "I am from this planet. Just... a different kind of human than normal. Some of us have abilities that most don't."

"Like what? Teleportation? Mind control? Energy manipulation?" Vers pressed.

"Something like that," Arthur responded vaguely. "Look, we're not so different. You've got your photon blasts; I've got my... talents."

Vers turned back toward the payphone without responding, apparently deciding to ignore him in favor of her original mission. While she examined the communication device again, Arthur began quietly repairing the damage their fight had caused.

With subtle gestures and whispered "Reparo" spells, he mended the dented cars, restored the scattered shopping carts, and fixed the cracked pavement. Within minutes, the parking lot looked almost untouched, save for the gaping hole in the Blockbuster roof that he left alone. That was not his doing, and he wasn't about to repair damage he hadn't caused.

"That's... useful," Vers commented, having turned to observe his work. Her tone was still guarded but held a hint of genuine curiosity.

"Comes in handy," Arthur admitted with a small shrug. "Especially after impromptu battles with aliens."

"Are there many like you on this planet?" she asked, her suspicion clearly not fully dispelled.

"Some," Arthur admitted carefully. "We keep to ourselves, mostly. Not everyone appreciates people who are... different."

"Why did you seek me out?" she asked, her gaze direct and penetrating.

Arthur considered his answer carefully. He couldn't tell her the truth—that he knew exactly who she was and would become. That he'd been monitoring for her arrival for months.

"I detected your arrival," he said instead. "I was curious about the visitor from space. That's all. Our planet hasn't exactly mastered interstellar travel yet, so meeting someone from another world is rather extraordinary. Which planet are you from? You look human apart from the photon beams."

Vers' expression became guarded again. "I'm in no mood for a chat. I've been through enough the past few days. Let me contact my commander first."

"Fair enough," Arthur conceded. "Take your time. I'll be here if you have any questions." He hesitated, then added, "Just... don't mention me to your people over the phone, yeah? My lot likes to keep a low profile, and you never know who might be listening. I'd rather not have to stop you if you try."

The implied threat wasn't lost on Vers, who gave him a cold look. "Is that so?"

"It's not a threat," Arthur clarified quickly. "Just a request. I'm not supposed to reveal what I am to... well, anyone. There are rules."

Vers didn't look convinced, but she turned back to the payphone, clearly prioritizing her mission over this strange encounter. She began examining the internal components of the device again, trying to figure out how to modify it for interstellar communication.

Arthur leaned against a nearby wall, wincing slightly as his bruised body protested. The encounter hadn't gone at all as he'd planned, but at least they'd reached a tentative truce. As he watched her work, he couldn't help but smile grimly to himself. His first meeting with a Marvel superhero had taught him a valuable lesson—he had a long way to go before he'd be ready to play in the big leagues.

"Welcome home, Carol Danvers" he muttered under his breath, though not loudly enough for her to hear.