Location: Nexus World Zeta – Where All Realities Intersect
The battlefield was a frozen moment in time.
Planets hovered mid-explosion. Dead gods floated in silence. Broken versions of the Eiffel Tower, the Hogwarts Express, and Stark Tower were stitched into the sky like a surreal nightmare tapestry.
And at the center… stood two Harry Potters.
One wore glowing silver-and-gold armor forged from the blessings of Olympus, Asgard, and Avalon. Our Harry, chosen Guardian of the Multiverse, bearer of the Hallows and the Sword of Unity.
The other wore obsidian battle robes woven from dark magic and corrupted Phoenix flame. Black Harry, raised in shadow, the twisted result of all of Harry's rage, loss, and darkness unrestrained.
They were perfect reflections. Equally powerful. Opposite in spirit.
"You could've been me," Black Harry said, circling. "If you had let go of guilt. Let go of love. Of mercy."
"I could've," Harry said calmly. "But then I wouldn't be me."
They clashed.
The Duel
Their first strikes shattered time.
Excaliburn met the Blade of Voidlight. Sparks of creation flew with each swing. Universes trembled.
They fought across collapsing Hogwarts ruins in Earth-838.
Through a dying X-Mansion in Earth-1610.
Across the floating remains of New Asgard.
Through the veil of death itself.
Each fought with everything they had:
Merlin's runes vs. Dumbledore's forbidden spells.
Mutant powers vs. god-force.
The love of a family vs. the hatred of a cursed fate.
Black Harry snarled. "You're weak because you care!"
"I'm strong because I care!" Harry roared, eyes glowing with every soul that believed in him.
The Final Blow
Black Harry summoned the Dark Phoenix, screaming in desperation.
Harry answered with the full light of the Phoenix Knights—Jean, Storm, and Wanda appeared at his side in blinding harmony. Then Excaliburn ignited with the fire of Avalon and Olympus combined.
Their final clash split the sky in two.
BOOM.
When the light faded… only one Harry stood.
Black Harry collapsed, the darkness draining from him, his armor fading into ash.
"You… win," he gasped.
Harry knelt beside him. "No. We lost. You should've been saved."
With the last of his strength, Black Harry looked up, a tear falling down his cheek.
"I wish… I had your life."
Then he was gone.
Aftermath – Camelot
Harry returned to Camelot in silence.
The Knights waited—solemn, proud.
Jean placed a hand on his shoulder. "He was you."
"I know."
"And you beat him."
Harry looked up at the stars. "No. I forgave him."
And above, in the heavens, the stars shimmered in approval.