(THE BONUS CHAPTER)
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The world was in chaos—though not the kind that bred despair. This was a strange, unsettling kind of chaos that people whispered about with wide eyes and restless excitement. For the average citizen, this year had already been the most unpredictable in decades.
It began with the sudden creation of the Mutant Department, a government branch that officially recognized and dealt with the rising mutant population. For many, it was both a promise of safety and a chilling reminder that the world was changing faster than they could keep up.
Not long after, the headlines shifted. Tony Stark kidnapped in Afghanistan. The genius, billionaire, playboy—vanished in the desert with no trace. The world buzzed with conspiracy theories and panic at the thought of the world's foremost weapons manufacturer in enemy hands.
Then came Oscorp, blindsiding the world with their announcement of the Regeneration Serum—a medical breakthrough capable of healing wounds that once meant certain death. That revelation alone might have defined an era.
But the storm hadn't settled. Out of nowhere, Tony Stark returned. Rumors swirled, stories twisted, but nothing prepared the press—or the markets—for what he did next.
His first public act? Shutting down Stark Industries' weapons division.
The company that had risen to global power by supplying weapons since World War II was now walking away from its foundation, abandoning the very business that had built its empire. The decision sent shockwaves across boardrooms, governments, and battlefields alike.
But all of this had nothing to do with Nova Ashbourne—at least, not directly. Though his shadow lingered behind more than a few of those world-shaking events.
Currently, Nova was far from the chaos of boardrooms, politics, and media frenzies. He was in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. To be more precise—on an island.
Not just any island. A recently purchased one, bought directly from Tony Stark in the aftermath of their little desert escapade. Nova wanted Stark as a future customer, maybe even a long-term partner, but that couldn't be rushed. Trust was a currency of its own, and forcing it would only devalue the trade.
After all, no matter how powerful he was, if a trader didn't have a shop or a base, he was nothing but a joke—an empty boast with no shelves to back it.
So for the past few weeks, ever since he had dragged Stark out of that cave and struck their deal, Nova had been busy. Tirelessly, endlessly busy. The kind of busy where days blurred into nights, where runes carved into stone replaced sleep, and where the sound of crashing waves became the background rhythm to chants, and ward-weaving. This wasn't just preparation—it was the foundation of his future.
Nova had thrown himself into its transformation. The place was still rough, a jagged patch of rock and dense forest surrounded by endless sea, but day by day, his will was reshaping it. He wasn't simply building structures—he was weaving wards, etching layers of protection, and carving power into its very bones.
With the magical knowledge he had obtained through trades with the Black Clover and Harry Potter worlds, Nova used Grey Matter's intelligence boosted by GMD to create greatest magical ward scheme he could. According to that scheme he scribed runes and sigils across the island.
Along the perimeter, vast spatial restriction wards flared to life, shimmering faintly like glass domes before fading back into invisibility. Nothing could teleport in or out unless Nova allowed it. Beyond them, he wove a mesh of concealment wards, cloaking the island from satellites, radars, and even the gaze of clairvoyants.
The air itself bent, light curving unnaturally around the land, leaving the ocean seemingly empty to all who passed. Deeper still, in the soil and stone, he carved layered barrier wards—not simple shields, but arrays that could absorb kinetic strikes, redirect magical blasts, and collapse into dimensional folds if necessary, scattering an enemy's force into nothingness.
But Nova didn't stop there. With his knowledge of rune structures and the flexible application of expansion charms from the Harry Potter world, he began altering the very geometry of the island. A network of Expansion Runes spread beneath the bedrock, anchoring into ley-lines, bending space so that the landmass inside was far larger than what satellite images could ever capture.
From the outside, the island was a modest speck in the Pacific—barely large enough to hold a private resort. But inside, the terrain stretched for miles: valleys rich with fertile soil, fresh water rivers and forests blooming overnight, all possible due to his reality altering power.
The heart of his defensive network was a ward anchored by a single core—the Thunder Rune, which he had received from the system as a reward for forging a contract with Vorrikan, the Ancient Thunder Dragon. Vorrikan was no mere beast, but a peak universe-ranked powerhouse whose very existence could tear apart star systems.
When Nova first learned of the dragon's true strength, he had been so terrified that it felt as if his soul had almost fled his body on the spot. He was incredibly fortunate that Vorrikan could not unleash even one percent of his true power due to the binding restrictions placed upon him by the Devils. Without those seals, Vorrikan could have killed him with his aura alone. He was incredibly lucky back then.
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THUNDER RUNE: A condensed manifestation of the primordial thunder laws themselves. By meditating upon it, one could deepen their understanding of thunder in all its myriad forms. This rune contained the essence of countless thunders—Destruction Thunder, Life Thunder, Soul-Piercing Thunder, Calamity Thunder, and even the rare Healing Thunder whispered of in ancient records. Each carried not just raw power, but concepts, principles, and mysteries interwoven with the fabric of creation.
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It had been five long years since Nova had acquired this rune. Whenever he had a sliver of free time—whether between battles, forging, or trading—he devoted himself to studying it. Each meditation session felt like peering into a boundless ocean of lightning, arcs of celestial blue and silver crackling through his soul as fragments of forgotten truths revealed themselves.
Even with the aid of Grey Matter's intelligence, magnified further by the GMD, his progress had been painfully slow. In all that time, he had managed to comprehend barely five percent of the rune's vast depth.
According to the system, should his comprehension of the rune ever reach thirty percent, and if all the necessary conditions were met, he could ascend into godhood—a God of Thunder, a being capable of shaking worlds with a single strike. And if he were ever to fully comprehend the rune in its entirety, his thunder godhood would not merely touch the divine but rise to the peak of the universe level, the very same height once held by Vorrikan himself.
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He didn't just use his understanding of the Thunder Rune for offensive purposes. He had gone further—crafting both defensive and attack-type rune ward schemes, blending destruction and protection into a single living network of thunder. This was his masterpiece, the culmination of years of study and experimentation. The system itself recognized its terrifying potential: once every year, the array could unleash a full-powered strike equivalent to that of a universe-ranked being at their peak. And once every month, it could channel an attack on the level of an Allfather or Godking, a blow that even the rulers of realms would hesitate to take head-on.
The foundation of this ward was no simple engraving. These runes had been etched into colossal pillars forged of enchanted star-iron and then anchored deep beneath the ocean floor. Together, they formed an invisible lattice that spanned the entire island, an unseen net of divine thunder waiting to be awakened. The structure itself breathed with power—if one were sensitive enough, they could feel the faint hum of lightning in the salt-heavy air, the quiet murmur of storms coiled in slumber.
Any hostile force daring to approach would find the heavens themselves turning against them. From the clearest of skies, thunderheads would gather in moments, rolling in with the weight of eternity. The calm sea would shudder as bolts of divine lightning cascaded down, each strike carrying the fury of a dragon's roar—Vorrikan's echo woven into the wards themselves. For enemies, it would not be a battle. It would be a descent into judgment, delivered by thunder.
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→ 30 REVIEWS= 3 BONUS CHAPTER's
→ 200 POWER STONES= 1 BONUS CHAPTER
→ 400 POWER STONES= 2 BONUS CHAPTER's
CURRENT PROGRESS:↓
– FIRST OBJECTIVE:- 24/30 REVIEWS
– SECOND OBJECTIVE- /200 P.S
– THIRD OBJECTIVE- /400 P.S
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CHAPTER:- [91 - THE LAB] IS AVAILABLE ON MY P@TREON.