He had to admit, magic like that was pretty incredible. The idea of opening a dimensional rift just to get to school or the store felt unreal.
Then a thought struck him. If his world had really been destroyed… did that mean he didn't have to go to school anymore? As absurd as it sounded, that might have been the only good thing to come out of this entire disaster.
Maybe it beacause he still had on his Shazam transformation, but the pain of loss hadn't struck Billy yet.
A man stepped out of the portal, draped in a flowing red cape, circular magical runes spinning around both of his forearms. They were aimed directly at him, poised as if ready to fire.
"You're a magician," he said, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.
The man paused. His wary expression remained, but his eyes narrowed slightly, as though the comment had touched a nerve.
"I'm a sorcerer."
"Oh. A wizard."
"No. A sorcerer, not a wizard."
The others kept their guard up, clearly puzzled as to why he was even entertaining this exchange instead of interrogating him—because that was obviously why he was there.
"That's what I said," Shazam continued casually. "A wizard is just a sorcerer with a hat."
The man's eyebrow twitched. He was visibly irritated.
"I'm kidding," he added quickly, trying to ease the tension. Judging by the aura and the complexity of the magic, this was clearly a high-level sorcerer.
"Enough." The man slapped his palms together. The glowing circles around his arms shifted and reconfigured as he formed a precise hand sign.
"Relax, I said I was joking."
The group exchanged uneasy glances before Ironman stepped forward. "Strange, we could've used your help earlier, but you were nowhere to be found. Why are you showing up now—and what's the deal with this guy?" he asked, gesturing toward him.
"Stay alert," the sorcerer commanded, prompting everyone to assume combat-ready stances. "The magic he possesses is far too acient and too powerful for a human."
The warning only deepened their suspicion. Even the god of thunder let electricity crackle around his hammer, though hesitation lingered in his stance. Perhaps their earlier interaction had made him seem more like an ally than the threat he was now being painted as.
"Then what is he?" the man who could turn into a green monster asked, adjusting his glasses as he studied him from a distance.
Unable to speak, he waved his arms in a frantic attempt to signal that he meant no harm. Instead, they took it as preparation for an attack. Each one of them took a defensive and battle ready stance with their weapons prepared to attack at any moment, including Ironman who's energy systems charged up in both of his palms.
Realizing how bad this looked, he slowly lifted his arms in surrender.
"From now on," the sorcerer said firmly, "you will only speak when spoken to. Any other action will be treated as hostility."
He nodded in understanding. The sorcerer lowered his hands, but the others remained at full alert.
As if incapable of keeping the promise he'd just agreed to, he spoke again before the wizard could get a word out.
"One question though…" he began, already imagining the veins bulging at the wizard's temple. "Is this Earth?"
He feigned ignorance, even as the visibly irritated sorcerer fought the urge to smack his own forehead in self-reproach—or worse, cast a spell just to shut him up.
"What do you mean, is this Earth?" Iron Man asked, genuinely confused.
The sorcerer raised a hand, signaling for silence.
"First of all, yes—this is Earth. Secondly, how about you start by telling us who you are, where you're from, and why you radiate such an absurd level of divine magical density."
The glowing circles vanished as the sorcerer gestured for him to answer.
"I'm Captain Marvel," he said.
He kept his hood up, his face still obscured, though his eyes glowed faintly gold beneath the shadow.
The reaction was immediate and awkward. A heavy silence settled over the group as everyone stared at him like he'd just lost his mind.
"What?" he asked.
"You… Captain Marvel?" the blond man with the shield—dressed in darker variations of the American flag, questioned skeptically.
"Yeah!" he replied, glancing at the round shield with the star at its center. "Wow. A real patriot," he muttered, sarcasm dripping from every word.
That earned him a sharp glare.
"Oh, you've got jokes," the sorcerer said flatly. His tone made it clear the sarcasm hadn't slipped past him.
"Last I checked," the former green brute—now human again—added, adjusting his glasses, "Captain Marvel was a blonde lady."
"Oh… well that's not disturbing at all," he muttered. The idea of a female version of himself unsettled him more than he cared to admit. He definitely preferred staying a guy in every universe.
"I meant where I'm from," he clarified quickly. "I'm Captain Marvel." He sounded like he was defending his sanity at this point, hoping they'd stop looking at him like he was lying—and drop the undercurrent of suspicion.
"Well, we already have one of those," the man in the iron suit said. His metallic exterior shifted and retracted upward, revealing a human face beneath. "So you're gonna need another name. There's no way we're calling you Captain Marvel."
"I know I said this earlier but, cool," he commented, genuinely impressed. The tech looked different than Cyborg's. Maybe this guy wasn't a full on robot after all.
"Wait," the blond patriot interjected. "What do you mean by where you're from?"
"We clearly have a lot of questions," the woman in the black combat suit said. "Why don't we take him back to the tower for questioning?"
"No," the sorcerer countered immediately. "He's far too dangerous for that. He may not be a god, but the best way I can describe him is a divine conduit."
"From what we've seen," the man in the iron suit said, pulling him from his thoughts, "if he meant us any harm, this conversation wouldn't still be happening."
"Seems like you're coming with us," the sorcerer said at last, clearly against his better judgment. "Do I need to bind you with magic, or will you come willingly? Either way, you're coming."
He was certain the sorcerer knew spells powerful enough to make resistance pointless—but either option worked fine for him.
"You don't need to worry," he replied calmly. "If I wanted to leave, I'd be gone before you finished casting."
The wizard's eyes narrowed, irritation flashing briefly across his face as he gave him a sharp, unmistakable glare.
He turned away and extended both hands, rotating one in a slow circular motion. Sparks flared in the air before them as space itself split open, forming a glowing dimensional rift. Beyond it lay what looked like the interior of a secure base.
They stepped through the portal together. As they moved down the corridor, the man in the armored tech suit walked slightly ahead, flanked by the blond patriot with the shield.
Behind him, the sorcerer kept close, Thor matching his pace. Together, the four escorted him deeper into what appeared to be the lower levels of the facility.
They eventually entered an elevator. As it descended, he couldn't help wondering why the sorcerer hadn't simply opened another portal to their destination. Glancing at the man in the tech suit, he asked casually, "So… what do they call you? Cyborg?"
"Cyborg?" The man sounded genuinely offended. "Do I look like a freaking robot to you?"
"Well… yeah," Shazam replied honestly.
The others struggled to hold back their laughter—except Thor, who burst out laughing without restraint.
The man in the suit smacked his own reclined face plate and shot Thor an annoyed look before defending himself.
"I am Iron Man. A man. Not a robot," he said, stressing the words.
"Oh, I get it," he said thoughtfully. "Because you're a man in an iron suit—Iron Man. Not made of tech like a cyborg."
Iron Man clearly didn't appreciate the clarification. This time, even the blond patriot couldn't hold it in and joined Thor's laughter.
"He is most amusing," Thor managed between laughs.
Iron Man frowned, unimpressed. Then, with a smirk, he gestured toward the sorcerer. "Why don't you ask him what he's called?"
The elevator doors slid open, revealing a large, open room clearly designed for combat training.
"Don't they just call him the Wizard?" he asked, turning toward the sorcerer, who had stayed out of their exchange.
"Again," the sorcerer replied through clenched teeth, taking a slow breath, "not a wizard."
"We're here," he added sharply, choosing to ignore the question entirely as they approached an elevated disc-like platform embedded in the floor, with a hollow cylindrical structure suspended directly above it.
He leaned slightly toward Thor and spoke in a low voice, barely above a whisper.
"I've been wondering… who's actually in charge here? The tin man, or the blond guy with the shield?"
"Hm. I have wondered the same myself," Thor replied thoughtfully.
That answer made his brow lift. How could someone be on a team and not know who the leader was? Then again, watching how both men carried themselves like co-captains, it made a strange kind of sense—especially coming from a god who didn't seem overly concerned with organizational details.
"Get on it, Sparkles," Iron Man said, jerking his chin toward the platform.
He could already tell it was some kind of containment unit. Still, he complied—rising slowly into the air before settling onto the center of the platform.
"JARVIS, activate the force field for our strange friend," Iron Man said.
Though he wasn't speaking to anyone visible, a blue, translucent force field surged to life along the platform's edges, sealing the walls of the open cylinder completely.
He understood the precautions. Had he resisted—or refused to come with them in the first place—this team of heroes would have labeled him hostile without hesitation. So he remained cooperative.
"This holding cell is designed to withstand a full lightning strike," Iron Man continued, glancing briefly at Thor. "Any excess electricity is safely dispersed through proper grounding."
Thor met the look with one of his own, clearly wondering whether this cell had been built specifically with him in mind.
There was no way the Avengers just happened to have a chamber capable of nullifying his lightning—assuming the field was isolated enough to sever his connection to Mjolnir.
Iron Man looked away and continued, his tone confident, "If I were you, I wouldn't bother trying to fry the circuitry. It won't work."
"Sure," Shazam replied, glancing around his hopefully temporary accommodations. "Throw in a couple of magazines and maybe a flower, and this place might actually be livable."
He didn't bother hiding the sarcasm.
"We'll get back to you—" The blond patriot began.
"—Eventually," Iron Man cut in, making it sound like Shazam's situation might either slip their minds entirely… or take a very long time to resolve.
"Do not let it trouble you, friend," Thor said warmly. "You shall be released soon enough."
"In the meantime, make yourself as comfortable as you can," Iron Man added, gesturing behind Shazam. A platform rose from the floor, forming a narrow bed, and at the far end a compact toilet appeared, complete with neatly hung tissue.
"Damn," Shazam muttered. He couldn't help wondering how his life had spiraled so quickly—from hero to detainee in an unfamiliar world.
When he turned back, they were already walking away.
"Wait!" he called.
All four stopped and turned to face him.
"I never got your name," he said, addressing the sorcerer—the one whose magic fascinated him, and who had pushed hardest for his confinement.
"I am Doctor Stephen Strange," the man replied evenly. "But you may call me Doctor Strange."
With a nod, Strange turned on his heel, and the group continued toward the exit.
"Wow," Shazam muttered under his breath as he watched them leave. "That's a pretty strange name."
Thinking back, Iron Man had called him Strange earlier. "Guess he really is a strange wizard," he added quietly.
His thoughts wandered—whether Strange had chosen the name himself, or if his parents had looked at him as a child and decided, 'Yes, this one's definitely one strange child.'
Or maybe it was a title passed down through a long lineage of wizards.
Either way, he let his imagination occupy him, keeping his current predicament from weighing on him more than it already did.