Abracabra and the whole nine yards. DC AU Multicross

[Kingofdreams]

Chapter 1​

I should have been grading papers. Instead, I was bleeding out on Hancock Street.

The irony wasn't lost on me. A historian dying before making any history of his own. My Alfa Romeo was thirty feet away, crumpled against a telephone pole. The truck that had run the red light was already gone, the driver probably panicking, probably drunk. My phone was somewhere in the wreckage, and the streetlight above me flickered like it couldn't decide whether to witness my death or not.

Everything hurt. Then everything went numb. Then everything went dark.

---

I opened my eyes to sunlight that felt wrong.

Not wrong like "different latitude" wrong, but wrong like "different physics" wrong. The light had weight to it, substance, as if photons had learned to press down on skin. I sat up, too easily considering I'd just been turned into a human accordion by several tons of steel.

No pain. No blood. No cracked ribs that should have been puncturing my lungs.

I looked down at my hands. Same hands. Same slight calluses from years of turning archive pages and tinkering with carburetors. I was wearing the same clothes I'd died in: khakis, a button-down shirt with a coffee stain on the collar, and the leather jacket my father had given me for my thirtieth birthday.

But the ground beneath me wasn't asphalt. It was cobblestone, old enough to have that worn-smooth quality that spoke of centuries of foot traffic. Around me stretched a city that looked like someone had taken Art Deco, Gothic Revival, and Brutalism, thrown them in a blender, and poured the result into a skyline that clawed at clouds I couldn't quite focus on.

The architecture made my historian's brain itch. Nothing matched, yet everything worked together in a way that suggested either brilliant urban planning or cosmic accident. A building to my left had flying buttresses supporting what appeared to be a chrome and glass penthouse. To my right, a structure that could have been a 1920s bank had holographic advertisements floating in front of it, words in a language I didn't recognize but somehow understood: LEXCORP FINANCIAL SERVICES.

I stood up. My legs worked fine. Better than fine, actually. I felt like I could run a marathon or climb a mountain or teach a full day of classes without needing three cups of coffee.

"Okay, Ben," I said aloud, because talking to yourself in a strange city after dying seemed reasonable. "Think. You died. You're clearly not dead now. Therefore..."

I trailed off because a figure was flying overhead.

Flying. Not in a plane. Not with a jetpack. Just flying, like gravity was optional and they'd opted out.

The figure banked left, and the sun caught their form. Green. Bright, glowing, emerald green. A man in what looked like a skintight uniform, with a symbol on his chest that my brain supplied a name for before my rational mind could catch up: Green Lantern.

"No," I said. "No, that's not possible."

The Green Lantern, because apparently that's what we were calling reality now, flew between buildings with the casual confidence of someone who did this every morning before breakfast. A streak of green light trailed behind him like a comet's tail, and then he was gone, disappeared into the vertical maze of the city.

My heart was pounding. Not from fear, exactly, but from the sudden, crushing weight of implication.

I'd spent the last three months in a weird place mentally. The school year had been brutal. Budget cuts meant larger class sizes, which meant more papers to grade, which meant less time for anything resembling a personal life. I'd been stress-eating takeout and staying up too late, and I'd fallen down an internet rabbit hole that started with YouTube history documentaries and ended with... what had it ended with?

The CYOA.

Choose Your Own Adventure. Except it wasn't an adventure, not really. It was one of those absurdly detailed power fantasy questionnaires that people made for fun. This one had been tailored to fictional universes. You picked a world, you picked your powers, you built your character like you were creating a tabletop RPG protagonist.

I'd filled it out as a joke. A way to turn off my brain after grading thirty-five essays on the fall of the Ottoman Empire, half of which had clearly been written by what felt like 6th graders.

I'd picked the DC Universe because I'd grown up reading my uncle's old comic books. I'd picked powers that appealed to the part of me that loved systems and teaching and the idea of magic as something that could be studied, not just wielded.

[Archmage]: Mastery over all forms of magic, from the fundamental to the esoteric. Reality was just another system to be understood and manipulated.

[Magic Bestowal]: The ability to grant magical power to others. The gift was permanent unless I chose to revoke it, and the strength of the magic scaled with the importance of the recipient. A nobody got parlor tricks. A king got world-shaking power.

[Traverse]: The ability to visit different dimensions, but only after completing quests in my current one. A reward system baked into reality itself.

I'd submitted the form at two in the morning, laughed at myself for wasting an hour on internet nonsense, and gone to bed.

Then I'd been hit by a truck.

"Okay," I said, louder this time. "Okay, if this is real, if I'm actually in the DC Universe with the powers I picked, then there should be..."

I held out my hand, not entirely sure what I was doing, and thought about fire.

A ball of flame appeared in my palm.

Not metaphorically. Not "I feel warm" or "I'm imagining things." An actual, honest-to-god fireball, hovering above my skin like I'd just broken every law of thermodynamics and several laws of common sense. The fire didn't burn me. It sat there, patient, waiting for instruction.

I closed my fist and the fire vanished.

My breath came faster. I tried again, this time thinking about water. A sphere of liquid formed in the air in front of me, perfectly contained despite lacking any container. I waved my hand and it splashed against the cobblestones, real and wet and impossible.

"Holy hell," I whispered. "It's all real."

I needed information. I needed to understand where I was, when I was, and what counted as a "quest" in a universe where people regularly punched gods in the face.

The street I was on appeared relatively empty, which was a small mercy. A few pedestrians walked by on the opposite side, too absorbed in their phones or their conversations to notice a man conjuring fire from nothing. In the distance, I could hear the ambient noise of a major city: traffic, construction, the occasional siren.

---

A/N had a muse of this and decided to explore it.
Tell me what you think?
Should I bold [Archmage]? Or skills in general.

 

[UnworthyPhalanx]

Bold the skills helps show that it's important

 

[Kingofdreams]

Chapter 2​

I started walking, trying to look like I belonged. The buildings around me had that strange mixture of familiar and alien. A coffee shop with a logo I didn't recognize. A newsstand with headlines that made my pulse quicken: "SUPERMAN STOPS METEOR OVER METROPOLIS" and "BATMAN: VIGILANTE OR HERO?" and "LEX LUTHOR ANNOUNCES NEW INITIATIVE FOR METAHUMAN INTEGRATION".

But it was the smaller headline at the bottom that caught my eye: "Coast City Celebrates Green Lantern Day".

Coast City. Not Boston. Not Metropolis. Coast City, home to Hal Jordan, the most famous Green Lantern of them all. A city that existed somewhere on the California coast in the DC Universe, a place that had been destroyed and rebuilt in the comics more times than I could count.

I picked up a newspaper, more out of habit than anything else. The date at the top read March 13, 2010.

Sixteen years. I'd gone back sixteen years, or forward into a universe that was sixteen years behind mine, or sideways into a reality where time just happened to align differently. The metaphysics made my head hurt.

The newspaper vendor, an older woman with grey hair and a Ferris Aircraft windbreaker, glanced at me. "You gonna pay for that, honey?"

"Right. Sorry." I patted my pockets and found my wallet, miraculously intact. I pulled it open and looked at the bills. All dated 2024, 2025, 2026. Useless. But the coins...

I dug through the change pocket and found what I needed. Quarters, dimes, nickels, all dated before 2010. A handful of change that was legal tender in this timeline because metal was metal and the mint marks matched.

"How much?" I asked.

"Dollar fifty."

I counted out the exact change, pennies and nickels and dimes from 2008, 2009, coins I'd been carrying around for years without thinking about it. The vendor took them without comment, dropped them in her cash box, and went back to her crossword puzzle.

I folded the newspaper under my arm and kept walking, trying to process the implications. 2010 meant the Justice League was probably still forming, if it existed at all yet. Superman was established, Batman was active, but the team dynamics would be different. Younger. Less experienced.

More chaotic.

I found myself in a plaza dominated by a statue, and when I saw it, I had to stop and stare.

Three figures in bronze, larger than life, posed in dynamic action stances. Green Lanterns, all of them. The plaques at the base identified them in the order they first appeared, Three statues with lantern uniforms.

I knew Hal and John from the comics, though seeing them immortalized in bronze made them feel more real, more present. Kyle Rayner I recognized vaguely, another Green Lantern from the comics, though I couldn't remember his specific storyline. The fact that all three were honored here suggested they were active, known, celebrated.

Coast City loved its Green Lanterns. That much was clear from the statue, the festival banners I could see hanging from streetlights, the shop windows decorated with green and black.

I sat on a bench near the statue and tried to organize my thoughts like I was preparing a lecture.

Fact one: I had died in 2026 in my original world.

Fact two: I had woken up in the DC Universe in 2010 with the powers I'd selected in a joke internet questionnaire.

Fact three: One of those powers required me to complete a quest before I could access dimensional travel.

I closed my eyes and focused inward, trying to feel for the powers I supposedly had. It was like flexing a muscle I didn't know existed. Information bloomed in my mind, not words exactly, but knowing. And then something appeared in front of me.

I opened my eyes and nearly jumped off the bench. Floating in the air, visible only to me based on the complete lack of reaction from people walking past, was a translucent screen. It looked like something out of a video game, glowing softly with text that seemed to be written in light itself.

QUEST: MINIMAL ESTABLISHMENT

Objective: Found a functional magical academy in the DC Universe. The institution must have: A permanent location suitable for instruction At least ten students enrolled and actively learning A curriculum covering fundamental through advanced magical theory Recognition or acknowledgment from at least one major superhero or organization Time Limit: None Current Progress: 0/10 students enrolled, 0/1 location secured Reward: Unlock [Traverse] for dimensional travel Penalty for Failure: None, but [Traverse] remains locked Additional Notes: Location must be owned or under your legitimate control Students must consent to learning and attend regularly Curriculum will be evaluated by the system for completeness Recognition can be formal or informal, positive or negative Objective: Found a functional magical academy in the DC Universe. The institution must have: A permanent location suitable for instruction At least ten students enrolled and actively learning A curriculum covering fundamental through advanced magical theory Recognition or acknowledgment from at least one major superhero or organization Time Limit: None Current Progress: 0/10 students enrolled, 0/1 location secured Reward: Unlock [Traverse] for dimensional travel Penalty for Failure: None, but [Traverse] remains locked Additional Notes: Location must be owned or under your legitimate control Students must consent to learning and attend regularly Curriculum will be evaluated by the system for completeness Recognition can be formal or informal, positive or negative

Objective: Found a functional magical academy in the DC Universe. The institution must have: A permanent location suitable for instruction At least ten students enrolled and actively learning A curriculum covering fundamental through advanced magical theory Recognition or acknowledgment from at least one major superhero or organization

Time Limit: None Current Progress: 0/10 students enrolled, 0/1 location secured Reward: Unlock [Traverse] for dimensional travel Penalty for Failure: None, but [Traverse] remains locked Additional Notes: Location must be owned or under your legitimate control Students must consent to learning and attend regularly Curriculum will be evaluated by the system for completeness Recognition can be formal or informal, positive or negative

The screen hung there, patient, waiting for me to acknowledge it. I reached out and touched it. My hand passed through, but I felt a tingle, like static electricity. When I focused on specific elements, more information appeared. The location requirement could be met through purchase, lease, or magical claim, but it had to be secure and suitable for teaching. The students had to be genuine learners, not hostages or victims of coercion. The recognition could come from heroes, but also from government agencies or established magical practitioners.

The quest was serious. Someone or something wanted me to build this academy, wanted me to succeed. The screen faded when I stopped focusing on it, but I could feel it hovering at the edge of my perception, ready to reappear whenever I needed it.

I pulled out my phone, an iPhone that had been in my pocket when I died. The screen was cracked from the accident but still functional. I tried to unlock it, swiped through to my apps, and opened the browser.

No connection. Of course not. Whatever network I'd been connected to in 2026 Boston didn't exist here, and I didn't have a SIM card that would work with 2010 cellular technology anyway.

But I had magic. And magic, I was learning, was just another way of solving problems.

I held the phone in both hands and thought about networks, about data flowing through the air in invisible streams of currents in the air. In 2010, WiFi was common enough. There had to be networks around me, coffee shops and businesses broadcasting their signals. I just needed to connect.

The knowledge came from [Archmage] bidden, flowing from it like power from water from a tap. [Technopathy] it suggested. Not strictly magic in the traditional sense, but a bridge between the mystical and technological. The ability to interface with technology, to speak the language of machines in a way they understood. I was directly hacking, interfacing without asking permission, offering a small pulse of energy in exchange for access.

The local Starbucks WiFi network responded like a friendly dog wagging its tail. The connection established itself, bypassing passwords because I was speaking directly to the router's firmware, fooling it that I belonged.

I thought about it and used [Repair] as well and my phone screen flickered, the WiFi icon appeared, and suddenly I was connected to the internet of 2010. Slower than I was used to, clunkier, with websites that looked ancient by my standards, but functional.

I searched for "Coast City real estate" and started scrolling through listings.

What I needed was specific. A location large enough to house classrooms, living quarters for students if necessary, and space for magical experimentation without neighbors complaining about strange lights and sounds. It needed to be affordable, or at least acquirable, given that I had exactly zero dollars in legal tender and a handful of pre-2010 coins.

It also needed to be isolated enough that I could establish wards and protections without immediately attracting attention from every supernatural being in the DC Universe.

The search results were depressing. Everything in the city proper was expensive, crowded, or both. Apartments, offices, warehouses, all with price tags that made my teacher's salary from Boston look like pocket change.

I expanded my search to include "Coast City outskirts" and "Coast City historic properties." The results improved slightly, showing older buildings and properties farther from the city center. Industrial spaces near the docks. Converted churches. A former military installation that had been decommissioned in the 1990s.

Then I saw it.

Historic Estate - Cliffside Location - As-Is Sale

The listing had two photos. The first showed a massive mansion, three stories of Gothic Revival architecture with towers and turrets that belonged in a Victorian novel. The second showed the cliff it perched on, a dramatic promontory overlooking the Pacific Ocean with waves crashing against rocks a hundred feet below.

The description was sparse but telling:

Former residence of the Hightower family. Built 1889. 18,000 sq ft. 14 bedrooms, 9 bathrooms, library, conservatory, ballroom, extensive grounds including gardens and carriage house. Property has been vacant for 12 years following estate settlement disputes. Significant renovation required. Zoned for institutional/educational use. $650,000 OBO. Estate sale, motivated seller, cash offers preferred.

$650,000 was still a fortune, but the "OBO" (or best offer), "estate sale," and "cash offers preferred" suggested desperation. Someone wanted this property off their hands, probably the executors of the Hightower estate who'd been dealing with it for over a decade.

---

A/N Tell me what you think
Trying out tables?