Marvel x Dc: New magic

Leonardo leaned against the railing of the private jet, watching the vast ocean stretch endlessly below. The rhythmic hum of the engines was a soothing contrast to the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind. His life had taken a turn beyond anything he had ever imagined—magic, Hogwarts, and now, an unknown journey into the arcane.

But his thoughts were interrupted as Don Salvatore, seated across from him in a velvet armchair, reached into his coat and pulled out a small, ornate box. The old man ran his fingers over its surface, as if contemplating the weight of what lay inside. His expression was unreadable, but Leonardo could sense something different in his demeanor—something rare.

"This," Salvatore finally spoke, his voice steady yet carrying a hint of reverence, "is a treasure that has been in our family for centuries."

Leonardo straightened, his interest piqued. "What's inside?"

Salvatore slowly opened the box, revealing a fragment of an arrowhead. The golden tip gleamed under the cabin lights, pulsing as if alive.

Leonardo's eyes narrowed. Something about the artifact made his skin prickle. It was ancient. Powerful. Dangerous.

"The Arrow," Salvatore murmured, his fingers tightening around it. "It chooses the worthy."

Before Leonardo could react, Salvatore's expression shifted—his usual composed mask cracked with something raw, something desperate. Then, without warning, he lunged forward and drove the arrowhead straight into Leonardo's forehead.

Pain.

Blinding, searing pain exploded in his skull. His vision blurred as white-hot agony consumed him. It felt as if his very soul was being ripped apart and reforged in a furnace of unseen forces. His body convulsed, his heartbeat hammering like war drums.

Then—blackness.

When Leonardo opened his eyes, he was no longer in the jet.

A towering figure stood before him, clad in intricate purple armor with golden accents that shimmered under an unseen light. A regal red cape draped over its shoulders, billowing without wind. Its face was obscured by a sharp, imposing helmet, and its eyes burned with an intense, almost hypnotic glow.

Leonardo couldn't move. He wasn't afraid—no, he was entranced.

The entity radiated power. Authority. Dominance.

Then, as if it had been waiting for acknowledgment, a flood of knowledge surged into Leonardo's mind.

Scarlet Conqueror.

A manifestation of his very soul.

A force of absolute control.

A Stand.

He gasped, the weight of the information nearly overwhelming him. His Stand's ability crystallized in his thoughts—the power to manipulate the emotional states of those around him, to instill either an overwhelming dread or an uncontrollable rage. A perfect weapon for someone raised in the ruthless world of the mafia.

It was more than mere influence—it was psychological warfare. In a battlefield of emotions, he would be the conqueror.

The entity—his Stand—took a step forward, standing beside him, its presence like an extension of himself.

A chuckle snapped him back to reality.

Leonardo turned to see Don Salvatore, standing there, holding a deck of aged tarot cards. He flicked through them before stopping on one and holding it up. The card was labeled "The Emperor."

"This," Salvatore said, voice filled with approval, "is what they call a Stand—an embodiment of one's very soul." He placed the card down, his eyes glinting. "And yours is magnificent, Leonardo."

Leonardo exhaled, his hands trembling slightly as he stared at his Stand. He clenched his fist, testing the connection, and Scarlet Conqueror mirrored him. Power thrummed through his veins.

For the first time since this journey began, he truly felt unstoppable.

Magic was one thing.

But this?

This was something greater.

Something that would make him a king.

And the world would soon know the name Leonardo Giovanna.