📢 Quick Update: New Name!
Hey everyone!Just a heads-up — I've officially rebranded as UmU Studios 🎬✨Same writer, same stories, just a new name to match the bigger vision I'm building.
Thanks for sticking with me through every chapter, twist, and world.Let's keep making something epic together! 🚀📖
— UmU
____________________________________________________________________________________________
Chapter 70: The Tesseract
George didn't go with Osborn and the others on the European science tour.
Officially, he stayed back to "handle British investments." That wasn't a lie — just not the whole truth.
He'd already sent out his personal security teams across Europe, each with discreet orders and exact coordinates. They weren't guarding factories or protecting assets. They were looking for something specific.
And it didn't take long.
The first report came back from Norway. They'd found it.
George handed his operational responsibilities to his staff and quietly slipped away from public view. As far as the British government knew, he was still in London, managing investments and shaking hands behind closed doors.
In reality, he was on his way to Tønsberg.
George had never been to Norway before, which complicated the use of certain types of long-distance travel magic.
Instead, he relied on something more practical.
He stepped into a private chamber, cast a series of concealment wards, and transformed — feathers rippling over skin, bones folding inward. A moment later, a peregrine falcon burst into the sky, cutting through the afternoon clouds toward the Norwegian coast.
Unlike Animagi, who were restricted by the deep, personal bond between their form and their soul, George's transformation was flexible. His technique drew from more modern schools of magic — ritual-based, repeatable, and far less dangerous than the traditional Animagus process.
No years of spiritual meditation, no risk of becoming stuck mid-form. Just clean, efficient utility.
The downside? It burned energy fast.
Three hours later, he dropped from the sky, wings tucked as he descended toward a foggy port city. The moment his talons touched cobblestone, he reverted to human form in the shadows of an alley.
A man in a dark coat greeted him at the edge of town. One of his operatives. No words were exchanged; just a nod and a set of keys. George got into the car and drove toward the village beneath Tønsberg.
The target wasn't the city itself, but a church in the valley nearby.
More specifically, what lay beneath it.
According to the old stories — and a few very well-preserved documents George had obtained — this church sat atop one of the oldest caches of power on Earth.
A thousand years ago, a battle had taken place here: Odin and the Asgardians had driven back the Frost Giants, ending a war that had spilled into the mortal realm. The giants were defeated, and the spoils of war were claimed. Odin took Loki, the Casket of Ancient Winters... and the Tesseract.
Two of those artifacts had been returned to Asgard. The third had been left behind.
Why?
Maybe Odin considered Earth too primitive to pose a threat. Maybe hiding something in plain sight — in a world no one cared to watch — was the safest move of all.
George didn't know. And he didn't care.
He just wanted to see if the Tesseract could interact with the Chaos Pearl.
The car pulled into the village slowly.
A few heads turned as he passed. Outsiders were rare here, and cars even rarer. By the time he stepped out onto the gravel road, a small group of villagers had already gathered nearby. They didn't speak, just watched from a distance.
From the front doors of the church, a man stepped out — forties, broad-shouldered, with the quiet weariness of someone used to routine.
"Hello, sir," the man said. "Can I help you?"
George smiled. "I heard in Tønsberg there's still an old Nordic church tucked away up here. Thought I'd have a look. I deal in antiques — just call me George."
The man glanced at the car behind him, then back. "Yes, well, this is the church. But we don't have antiques here. It's just something the villagers built generations ago. You might be disappointed."
George gave a relaxed chuckle. "No antiques? That is a pity. Came all the way out from the city just for this. Still—" he turned to look up at the stonework— "it's well-preserved. Would it be alright if I had a quick look inside?"
The man hesitated — not rudely, just unsure.
Then he nodded. "Of course. Come on in."
George turned to his two guards. "Wait by the car. This won't take long."
As he followed the man toward the church doors, George casually reached into the man's thoughts. A surface-level mind-reading spell was all he needed. The man didn't know what was hidden beneath the stone. That was good. Cleaner.
The church interior was small and dimly lit by the gray sky filtering through narrow stained-glass windows.
What stood out immediately was the stone coffin in the center.
Most churches would place a cross, an altar, perhaps a pulpit. Here, a sarcophagus took center stage. And from the carvings on its lid, George already knew what it contained.
The walls were covered in intricate murals — Norse myths told in etched lines and fading colors. One wall showed Odin's spear raised against the Frost Giants. Another showed the Nine Realms woven into the World Tree. And beneath the Tree, the three roots leading to Urd, Mimir, and Niflheim.
George had seen these stories a hundred times in texts. Seeing them carved into ancient stone made them feel... closer. More grounded.
He turned to the churchman. "This is remarkable. Really. Thank you for letting me look around."
"Of course," the man said. Feel free to walk the space. I'll be just upstairs."
George nodded, then waited for the sound of footsteps to fade above him.
He raised his wand. "Stupefy."
A faint flash. The man collapsed with a soft thud, unconscious.
George moved him gently to the staircase landing, then returned to the sarcophagus.
He hovered his hand above the lid. "Wingardium Leviosa."
With a low groan, the stone lifted and slid aside. A pale blue light poured upward, refracting across the carved ceiling.
There it was.
Held in the withered hands of a long-dead figure — the Tesseract.
Even with gloves on, George felt its hum. A low, pulsing presence. Not malevolent. Just vast.
He lifted it carefully from the corpse's grasp and turned it over in his hand.
'What do you really do?'
The Chaos Pearl — lodged in the recess of his consciousness — twitched.
It wasn't violent. But it stirred for the first time since he'd obtained it. Like it recognized something. Like it was… hungry.
George narrowed his eyes.
So, it reacts.
He took a breath, steadied his thoughts, and carefully moved the Tesseract into the Chaos Space.
The effect was immediate. For a fraction of a second, George felt the Chaos Space expand, the boundaries bending outward like fabric stretched tight.
Then he pulled the Tesseract back.
The moment it left the Chaos Space, somewhere far above the Earth, two beings noticed.
In Asgard, Odin's hand paused mid-gesture. Thor and Loki were arguing, but the Allfather wasn't listening.
Something had flickered. Faintly. A familiar pulse.
But it was gone just as quickly.
He frowned, then let it go.
In Kamar-Taj, the Ancient One looked up from her scroll.
She saw the ripple.
The Tesseract had disappeared. Not stolen. Not moved. Simply... phased. Into a space outside normal time.
Then it returned.
She stared at the sky through the open balcony and said nothing.
Back in the church, George lowered the cube onto the floor gently.
It had shrunk slightly — no more than a half-inch on each side — but the Chaos Space within him had grown in proportion.
Interesting. But disappointing.
'If all this can do is stretch the boundaries of my internal dimension, then its value is limited.
Not useless — just... less than hoped.'
He considered another test. But no. Pushing too far now might risk destabilizing the object — or worse, shifting the timeline.
The Tesseract was far too woven into future events. George had no interest in ripping out a thread this early.
He placed the cube back in the coffin, reposed the corpse's arms, and resealed the lid.
Before he left, he erased the memory of the churchman with a gentle touch of his wand.
A fabricated memory would take its place — a conversation about Nordic symbols and a friendly tourist with too many questions.
By the time George stepped back into the car, the sky was darkening.
The job was done. The result, inconclusive, but promising.
And most importantly, no one knew what had happened.
At least, not yet.
___________________________________________________________________________
Interlude: The One Who Wasn't Impressed
(A monologue from the Space Stone inside the Tesseract)
Another one.
Of course.
They always come eventually.
This one arrived with soft steps and a lie on his lips — something about antiques. They always call it something else at first. Curiosity. History. Peace. Power.
Power, mostly.
But I felt it the moment he stunned the guardian. "Stupefy," he said. How quaint. I've heard older words used to kill stars. Magic, science, god-speak — they all come wrapped in languages that forget how small they are.
So I thought, Here we go again.
Another cloaked hand. Another clever little man.
I didn't even bother to glow at first.
I've seen tyrants, children, kings — Odin, with his hollow honor. The Ancient One, hiding her fear behind silence. Scientists who calculated how to hold me, generals who tried to burn through me. All of them are obsessed with touching the edge of the universe through me.
All of them thought they were first. Or last. Or special.
They tried to trap me. Use me. Wield me like a lantern in the dark.
And here came this one — quiet, composed. Measured. Like he wasn't afraid.
He wore gloves.
How polite.
And then… he didn't take me.
That part? That was new.
When he lifted my casing, I expected awe. A flicker of reverence. Maybe even hunger. Most eyes widen. Most pulses quicken.
He just looked.
Analyzed.
His mind — it didn't press against me the way others do. No greed, no worship. Just a shape behind his eyes, I couldn't quite read.
Then something else — a pull.
Not fearsome. Not painful. But… unfamiliar.
He placed me inside a space I'd never seen.
It didn't belong to this realm or the ones around it.
I've been across galaxies. I've sat in Asgardian vaults, swirled through wormholes, and cracked a hole in reality itself. I know dimensions. I know what can hold me and what can't.
But that place?
It took me in — completely.
Like I was just another drop of color in its ocean.
That... has never happened.
Not without screaming. Not without collapse. Not without things breaking.
But this… space… it didn't strain.
It breathed.
Like it had been waiting.
The moment I slipped into that chaos — that gentle abyss — something moved inside me. Something old. A splinter of memory from before I was this shape. When I was still part of something greater. Before he—the Being—shattered us.
I remembered not being alone.
For the first time in eons, I felt… disoriented.
And then, just as suddenly, I was back in his hand.
Cold air. Gloved fingers. Human stillness.
He had only held me for seconds.
Seconds.
Odin kept me buried for centuries out of fear.
He hid me.
This one? He studied me for a blink, then tucked me away like I was... a puzzle piece. One he didn't need yet.
The insult of it — I am not a trinket.
I broke worlds. I shaped space. I am the scream between stars.
And yet here he was, lips barely curved, eyes distant, disappointed.
Not in fear. Not in failure. Just… underwhelmed.
Do you understand what that does to a being like me?
I watched him seal the chamber, place everything back just so. Neat. Respectful. Cold.
Even Odin had trembled once.
Even the Ancient One had tilted her head with caution.
But this man — George Orwell Swinton — treated me like a sample to log and move on from.
And still... I can't stop thinking about him.
His mind wasn't probing like others. It was already full.
But not cluttered. Ordered. Heavy.
Carrying something I didn't recognize.
That Chaos Space… it changed him. And maybe, just maybe, he could change me.
Not by force. Not through awe. But through indifference.
And that?
That's worse.
It's one thing to be feared. Another to be worshiped.
But to be studied, used, and returned —
like you were nothing but a tool from a shelf...
That makes you wonder what you aren't.
Do you know what it's like to be light itself and still not be enough?
To shine across creation and be glanced at like a candle in a hallway?
I do.
I didn't, until today.
I'll remember him.
Not because he was the strongest. Not because he reached the farthest.
But because he's the first one who didn't reach at all.
He tested. Measured. Then put me back like I was... data.
No one's done that before.
And I don't like not being understood.
But I like not being owned even more.
So I wait now.
In the dark.
Inside a dead man's tomb.
Wrapped in the arms of a myth, pretending to sleep.
And I think.
Not about Odin. Not about the wars or the stars or the shattered ones who tried to use me.
I think about him.
The human with the gloves.
The chaos in his soul.
The one who disappointed me.
The one who made me curious.
And curiosity is a dangerous thing —
even for a Stone.
So rest well, My Dear George Orwell, because I know you know.
And I'll wait for the day we meet again.
We will.
Definitely.
[END]
____________________________________________________________________________________________
📢 [Author's Update + Apology]
Hey everyone,
First, I want to sincerely apologize — over the past two days, I only posted one chapter per day instead of the usual two. I know many of you look forward to the daily double uploads, and I broke that rhythm. That's on me.
To those who waited and felt let down, I'm truly sorry. I appreciate your support and patience more than you know. I'm fully back on track now, and this won't happen again.
Now, onto today's chapter:
📚 Did You Enjoy It?
What do you think can be the intentions of the Space Stone? Is Gerogie in trouble, or can he fix it? Well, to remain updated, keep reading for new chapters.If you had fun reading, let me know by drowning me in Power Stones! 💎💥We're aiming for 300 Power Stones — hit that goal, and I'll drop a juicy bonus chapter as thanks! 🎁🔥
💬 Also, don't forget to leave a review, comment, or even your wildest theories. I read everything!Your feedback fuels me more than caffeine. ☕😤
Thanks for the support, legends.Let's keep this story rolling!
— UmU Studios