[ 5 Years Prior ]
Eleven-year-old Satoru stepped out of the London Sanctum looking exhausted. He began walking absentmindedly through the crowded streets of London with no particular destination, his mind a messy chalkboard of failed equations, spatial geometry, and sanskrit's fossilized usage.
For months, he had been trying to replicate the mechanics of a Sling Ring. He wanted the effect, the ability to fold space across vast distances, without the need for the brass trinket. But every attempt ended in a flicker of useless sparks and it frustrated him to no end.
The problem wasn't his solution. Instead, it was him, specifically, his eyes.
The Six Eyes were a mutation born from a world governed by Cursed Energy. Here, Cursed Energy didn't exist. While his eyes could perceive Eldritch magic and cosmic energies, they weren't 'native' to them.
To his Six Eyes, if Cursed Energy was a clear river he could perceive with a thought, the other energies were like trying to grab onto invisible smoke.
He could see it and use them better than the average layman, but he couldn't 'feel' the texture of the atoms well enough to rewrite them into a portal without the Sling Ring acting as a stabilizer.
'It's an evolutionary issue,' Satoru thought, letting out a heavy sigh. 'The Six Eyes was a biological mutation born as a result of humans with Cursed Energy back in who knows what era. If I just wait for them to naturally adapt to the laws of this world... What did the math say? Three hundred years? Maybe four?'
The thought was irritating. He was Satoru Gojo. He didn't have four hundred years to wait for his eyes to 'evolve'. He needed them to work now.
Sure, he could always borrow the Time Stone back in Kamar-Taj. He had even asked for it once, but the Ancient One had shot him down with a heavy–handed deal he wasn't yet willing to take.
"If you swear an oath to become the Sorcerer Supreme when my time is due," she had told him with that knowing, frustrating smile, "then I will let you carry it."
Satoru had laughed in her face. Taking the job meant taking the responsibility, and he had already spent one lifetime as the world's designated babysitter. He wasn't about to sign away his freedom just to fix a glitch in his eyes.
The oath to protect the stone was fine, but to protect Kamar-Taj as a whole and supervise? Hmm… What the hell was she thinking for even considering that thought, doesn't she already know him by now? If he really were to become Sorcerer Supreme, it would become a mess.
'Unless I find another Rosetta Stone to force evolution,' he mused, stopping at the side of a crossing near a hospital. 'I might have to stop my research on the Sling Ring for now and focus on other things.'
Suddenly…
The screech of tires and the sickening thud of metal against bone cut through Satoru's internal monologue.
A few feet away, an old man, easily in his late eighties, had been sent sprawling across the asphalt. His head hit the concrete with a dull crack that Satoru's refined hearing caught all too clearly. Screams erupted from the sidewalks instantly as bystanders rushed toward the scene, but Satoru's gaze was fixed on the ground.
A bouquet of white lilies had tumbled through the air and landed right at the tips of his sneakers.
Satoru looked at the old man lying in a growing pool of blood. Through his Six Eyes, he saw the man's life force flickering like a candle in a gale; a fragile and dimming pulse. Then, he looked back down at the flowers.
"What a mess," Satoru muttered.
He reached down and picked up the bouquet. Tucked between the stems was a small, elegant card. It read: To my dearest Nihility. 60 years today. Love, Arthur.
A heavy sigh escaped Satoru's lips. He wasn't the heroic type, not really. He had done enough 'saving' in his last life to last ten incarnations. But the sight of those lilies and the fading pulse of 'Arthur' sparked an impulsive curiosity.
"I really have nothing better to do, do I?" he whispered, shaking his head. "What the hell am I doing..."
He turned away from the chaos and walked toward the nearest hospital's entrance, ignoring the sirens in the distance. As he approached the automatic glass sliding doors, the space around him rippled.
By the time the sensors registered a presence and the doors hissed open, the eleven-year-old boy was gone. In his place walked an old man with thinning white hair, a slight hunch, and a face weathered by decades of life. He wore a simple, faded suit that looked like it had been pressed for a special occasion.
The transformation was flawless. To the mundane eye, it was just another elderly visitor.
'I'm wasting my lunch break on a sentimental errand,' he thought as he stepped onto the polished linoleum floors.
He walked up to the reception desk, the bouquet held firmly in his weathered hands. The receptionist looked up from her computer, her expression softening at the sight of the 'old man' and his flowers.
"Can I help you, sir?" she asked gently.
Satoru, or Arthur, gave her a small, practiced smile that reached his tired eyes. "I'm here to see Nihility. Nihility Miller, my wife. It's our anniversary."
The receptionist's brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of recognition passing through her eyes as she looked at the elderly man.
"Sir Arthur," she said, her voice dropping into a tone of soft pity. "She's in the same place. Room 312A, in the west wing."
Satoru, maintaining the slightly shaky posture of the eighty-year-old, gave her a slow, appreciative nod. "Ah, yes. My memory isn't what it used to be. Thank you, dear."
He turned and began to shuffle away, the white lilies trembling slightly in his grip.
The receptionist's gaze lingered on his retreating back longer than usual. She watched the way he clutched those flowers, her heart aching for the pair.
'The Miller couple really are unfortunate,' she thought, a small sigh escaping her.
She knew them well. Both Arthur and Nihility suffered from advancing dementia, but the wife had it far worse. On top of the memory loss, she had developed Irregular Sleep-Wake Rhythm Disorder. Her internal clock was shattered; she would drift into deep, coma-like sleep for days at a time and wake up in the dead of night, terrified and confused.
Yet, Arthur never faltered. No matter how much he himself forgot, he never forgot those lilies, and he never forgot her name. There were months when he simply refused to leave, sleeping in the uncomfortable plastic chair by her bed just to be there if she opened her eyes for even a second.
And Arthur's claim about it being their 60th anniversary... he'd been saying that every single day for a month now. It was clear his dementia was catching up to him, too.
…
Upstairs, Satoru reached Room 312A.
He pushed the door open, the lilies smelling of spring in the sterile, antiseptic air.
The woman on the bed looked like a ghost carved from moonlight. Her hair was a long, flowing river of silvery white, fanned out against the pillows in a way that made her look far younger than a woman celebrating her sixtieth anniversary with a husband. She looked peaceful as she slept.
Satoru stood by the bedside for a moment. He sighed. 'Let's get this over with.'
He leaned over and placed the lilies into a half-empty vase on the nightstand.
He turned on his heel to leave, his impulsive errand complete, but a sharp and raspy sound cut through the beeping of the heart monitor.
"You're not my Arthur."
Satoru froze.
"Who are you?" the voice asked again, stronger this time but trembling with an eerie clarity.
Satoru slowly turned his head. The woman was awake, her pale blue eyes, clouded with age but sharp with a strange lucidity, staring directly at him.
"I don't know what you mean, dear," Satoru said, trying to mimic the tone of the body of the old man whose skin he's wearing which he hasn't heard of. "It's me. It's our anniversary."
The woman let out a weak, dry chuckle that turned into a cough. She didn't even look at his face.
"Cut the crap, you berk!"
...
[Author's Notes]: Apologies for the delay in this chapter drop. I had an urgent matter at work that required my full attention, and I refuse to deliver a 'half-assed' chapter when I cannot focus. I'm back now, and things will return to normal.
Regarding some recent comments: I've noticed a gap in knowledge regarding the broader Marvel lore. To accommodate everyone, whether you're coming from a JJK or a Marvel-centered knowledge, I will be incorporating more contextual information into the text from now on.
Also, I noticed that some people seem to have misunderstood certain dialogues and monologues. I do not want to over-explain every single line, because as an author, it is my job to convey enough for readers to interpret the meaning on their own. If I have to break down every phrase, idiom, joke, and detail step by step, then at that point, bro, that is not on me anymore.
I might genuinely have to put a warning in the synopsis at this rate, because apparently this fic requires a higher level of reading comprehension to catch the kind of English I am using (Which isn't that deep, it's just the standard. Unless, you're too used to reading fics made by clankers, lmao).
There were even people saying things like, "There are no laws that govern outsiders from the Marvel multiverse." To that, all I can really say is: look at the Beyonder. He was born outside the Marvel universe, and the laws are out to get him when he entered Marvel's Multiverse and started the first secret war. You can even look for Uatu, the Watcher. He's an enforcer of a 'law' in an indirect way, but still, a law nonetheless.
I would probably punt a crying toddler into the sky if the ignorance of some readers gets too much... nah, I joke...
Anyway, that is all from me for now. Expect daily chapter drops from here on out, and once again, I apologize for the delayed update
Also, here's the discord: discord.gg/p42EgUYHRC