(Originally published in "The Many Adventures of the Avengers and Friends")
"No, no, you're missing the point. There is no throne. There is no version of this where you come out on top." - Tony Stark, "The Avengers"
Or is there?
Multiverses have the...
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°2021-2023°
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Connecticut seemed like a good place to hide out. Sure, it wasn't incredibly far from New York, but the whole New England area had a certain witch masking element about it. So many of Agatha's sisters had hidden or died there; their spirits protected the future generations. Though, it wasn't anywhere near as obvious as Salem. Yes, Connecticut seemed like the best place to lay low until Agatha could figure something out.
She lived alone in an old Colonial style house that only had one floor. Agatha liked the familiarity of it; she'd been alive for hundreds of years. But sooner or later she would have to get the heck out of Dodge once people started to realize that she didn't age. Or, at least, she aged very slowly. It was a hard habit to break, but she couldn't use any sort of magic, not even in secret.
Agatha couldn't decide if her current situation was better or worse than the days of the Witch Trials. Better because magic was now a more common thing on Earth, worse because she would likely be taken away if she was detected using it. She knew she wouldn't be killed for using it, but she didn't know what would happen if she did. Would it be worse than death? She sure didn't know.
Sometimes she wondered if she could fight her way out. Agatha had been practicing magic since she before she knew how to walk. Problem was, the magic that Earth's-- pardon, Midgard's-- rulers used was different from hers. Different properties, different physical manifestations... It would be impossible to tell the experience level. Agatha didn't dare consider getting close enough to find out.
Still, it was undeniable that the Queen was, in some form, a witch in her own right. Perhaps not in a traditional way, but Agatha could sense the deep-rooted natures within the woman.
Agatha had only ever seen her once, nearly nine years ago. During the initial takeover, Agatha was in New York, blending in with the civilians. She was in the H&M in Times Square looking for a new handbag when explosions had rocked the building, cars suddenly rolling around in balls of fire. Like many others, she ran outside to see the commotion. Aliens ran wild in the streets, blasting everything in sight. First responders were trying to hold off the attack, but it wasn't doing much good.
Then, she had sensed it. A connection she could feel deep inside her soul. Another witch. It was a strong pull, so that meant whoever it was was incredibly powerful. Cautiously, she followed it wherever it may lead her. She poked her head around a corner leading down a dark alleyway.
There was an odd alien chariot parked in the darkest depths. Two figures stood there, shifting around so the female one stood in front of her male counterpart.
