Marvel, start by marrying the Scarlet Witch

What Carl wanted to test now was how resistant Bronski—a genetically enhanced human injected with super soldier serum—was to various forms of magic. More importantly, he aimed to determine which category of magic was most effective against such a warrior.

"Oh? Only five seconds?"

Five seconds after casting the spell, Carl watched as Bronski's body morphed back from a toad into his human form. Stroking his chin thoughtfully, Carl muttered, "Interesting."

It was clear that Bronski's reinforced physique offered far more resistance to transfiguration spells than that of an ordinary person—but even so, five seconds was plenty of time to act.

"What the hell did you do to me?" Bronski demanded, his bravado now replaced by visible fear. His usual arrogance had vanished.

For a man like Bronski, strength was everything. He wouldn't have flinched if Carl had simply punched a hole through a wall or shattered concrete with a blow. That sort of power could be rationalized—it was still physical, still within the bounds of human understanding.

But turning him into a toad? And worse, letting him remember the thoughts and instincts of that toad?

That shook him to his core.

Bronski remembered everything from those five seconds—his squat little body, the jumpy instincts, the utter helplessness. The transformation wasn't just physical; his mind had adapted too. It terrified him in a way bullets never could.

He would rather be shot or torn apart than become something inhuman, mind and soul.

"You don't need to know what I did," Carl said with an unsettling calm. "You just need to stand still and not move."

Carl advanced slowly, wand in hand. Bronski, still rattled, instinctively stepped back.

To any outsider, it would look like a crazed old wizard hunting down a trembling rabbit.

"Legs—Frozen!"

A pulse of light shot from Carl's wand, but Bronski's reflexes kicked in. He leapt sideways and avoided it entirely.

"Ha! So dodging works…"

His confidence began to creep back in.

But Carl only smiled.

"That won't help you."

He clasped his hands, murmured softly, and whispered: "Illusion Technique—Golden Binding."

Bronski immediately froze in place. His limbs wouldn't respond.

The illusion spell worked especially well on those with unstable emotions—and Bronski's psyche was now in disarray. The momentary boost in confidence had been shattered again.

"Now," Carl said with a faint grin, "let's see how various spells affect you."

He raised his wand and began a clinical series of magical assaults:

"Piercing Heart! Soul Dagger! Shatter Bones! Petrify! Stun! Rapid Heal!"

Spell after spell struck Bronski. Carl meticulously observed each effect.

Physical-damage spells like Petrify and Shatter weren't as effective—Bronski's body resisted the transmutation, and his muscles fought against the paralysis. But mental and spiritual spells? Those worked almost perfectly.

Even the Stunning Curse and Imperius Curse had great impact.

Carl made a mental note: genetically enhanced soldiers were physically resistant, but their minds were still very much human.

More interestingly, healing spells proved to be highly effective on them. When he severed Bronski's arm mid-experiment, a single use of Rapid Heal reattached it seamlessly. The body's enhanced vitality made the regenerative magic far more efficient.

"Eighteen minutes," Carl murmured, glancing at his watch. "That's enough."

He raised his wand once more and chanted, "Obliviate! Rewrite with false memory!"

A soft glow enveloped Bronski and his five unconscious soldiers. Their memories of the past hour were replaced with carefully constructed fabrications.

In the monitoring room, David watched it all unfold through magical surveillance.

"The boss is getting scary..." he muttered in awe.

As soon as he spoke, Carl vanished from the camera feed and appeared beside him.

David flinched but quickly straightened.

"Throw them onto the streets of Times Square," Carl instructed. "Give them instruments—guitars, drums, a keyboard, whatever makes noise."

David blinked. "Yes, boss."

"Oh, and give them a banner. Write 'Debut Single: Don't Mess With Me!' on it."

"Yes, boss."

With a crack, Carl vanished once more, Apparating back to his penthouse. When he reappeared, Wanda had changed again—this time wearing a crisp, white naval uniform.

"I love uniforms," Carl said with a grin.

---

The next morning – U.S. Army Base, General Ross's Office

An adjutant rushed in holding a tablet.

"General! We've located Colonel Bronski and his team."

Ross stood up sharply. "Where? Did they complete the mission?"

After Bronski's team entered the Hudson Group's skyscraper yesterday, all contact had been lost. Ross had assumed it was simply due to signal jammers—but no one had reported back for over twelve hours.

"Sir… they didn't complete the mission," the adjutant said uneasily. "In fact, something's gone terribly wrong."

He tapped the screen and played a video that had just gone viral online.

The video showed Times Square at dawn.

There, in the middle of the plaza, six men in mismatched flamboyant outfits were performing a bizarre song with full-band instruments. It looked like a street performance gone terribly wrong.

The lyrics were outrageous:

> "Hey Ross, you idiot,

Don't mess with me,

Don't mess with me!

If you try again I'll ruin your day,

Shove your head where the sun don't play—

Ross, you fool,

Don't test my rule!"

At the front of the group—singing loudly into a mic—was Colonel Bronski.

Behind him, each member of the team was jamming enthusiastically: guitars, drums, keyboard, even backup vocals.

People nearby were recording, some laughing, others confused. Then, a van marked "New York State Mental Hospital" pulled up. Staff in white uniforms approached cautiously.

But when they tried to detain the six men, Bronski's team knocked them flat with casual ease.

Moments later, NYPD officers arrived and fired tranquilizer darts at the performers. One by one, they dropped and were loaded into emergency vans.

Ross stared at the footage in stunned silence.

The adjutant cleared his throat. "According to reports, they were declared mentally unstable after attacking city staff. Colonel Bronski and the others have now been taken to the New York State Mental Hospital for observation."

"…What the hell happened in that building?" Ross growled, slamming his desk.

"Send a team to retrieve them. I want every detail about what went down inside the Hudson Group tower."