[10 Years Later]
"Alfred, where are you hiding?!" a small boy cried out, his voice cracking in frustration.
He wiped the sweat from his brow, his red hair damp under the harsh midday sun. He'd been searching for what felt like forever, combing every corner of the playground with growing desperation. His shirt clung to his back, and his knees were dusty from crawling under benches and climbing trees. Yet there was no sign of Alfred.
"Come on, man... just answer once!" he muttered under his breath. But of course, Alfred never did. Only an idiot gave away their position during hide-and-see and Alfred was no idiot.
"I will find you, Alfred!" the red-haired boy shouted with all the defiance he could muster, fists clenched, face red, and chest heaving.
A few feet away, a girl with sleek black hair watched him with a smug smirk.
"He'll never find him," she said calmly, arms folded.
The group of kids around her nodded, glancing toward James the redhead as he searched under another bench.
"Yeah," another kid chimed in, sighing. "None of us have ever found Alfred. Not once. Not every single game we played."
"He's freakishly good at this," the black-haired girl added, her tone tinged with something sharp—resentment, maybe. Or was it jealousy? She couldn't really tell. Didn't care enough to figure it out either.
"And not just at this game," a third kid grumbled. "School stuff. Sports. Even dumb board games. He's always ahead. It's like he's in a league of his own."
The group went quiet for a second.
They all knew it was true.
Alfred Greenwater wasn't just good. He was unbelievable. Smart, fast, calm under pressure, and always—always—one step ahead of everyone else. It didn't matter what they were doing. He played life like it was a game he'd already beaten once.
And none of them could figure out how he did it.
but they had come on a common thinking that Alfred was just build different .
"Okay, time's up, James. Alfred wins again," the black-haired girl said flatly, turning away as the rest of the group began walking toward James, who stood frozen, defeated and disheartened.
"What? But I never found him…" James muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes scanning the area in disbelief.
"You didn't," a calm voice said right behind him.
James jumped in place, heart pounding as he spun around and there was Alfred, standing just a few feet away like he'd appeared from thin air. No sound. No warning. Just… there.
"How did you do that?!" James gasped, backing up a step.
Alfred only chuckled. "Well… a magician never reveals his secrets, right?" he said with a playful grin, brushing some dust off his shirt as if he hadn't just scared the soul out of his friend.
"Oh, so now you're a magician too, Mr. I'm So Far Above Everyone Else?" the black-haired girl said sharply, narrowing her eyes at him with a smirk of her own.
Alfred turned to her, still grinning. "You're just mad because I've never lost a single game."
"Tch. One day I'll catch you slipping," she muttered under her breath.
"You can try," Alfred replied, walking past the group like a shadow fading into the sun, his tone cool, confident, and calm.
And once again, no one could argue because no one had ever caught Alfred slipping.
Later…
The door creaked shut behind him with a soft click as Alfred stepped into the cramped, dimly lit room. Calling it a "room" was generous it was more like a storage closet barely wide enough for the small, creaky bed shoved into the corner. But he didn't complain. He didn't need comfort.
He barely spent any time here, anyway.
As his eyes adjusted to the familiar shadows, they landed on the bed. Or rather, on the figure above the bed.
Standing there was someone with the exact same messy black hair, pale skin, and crimson-red eyes as Alfred himself. It wasn't a mirror. It wasn't a hallucination.
It was a shadow clone.
The clone looked down at him, arms crossed. "About time. I was starting to think you got caught playing with the normies again."
Alfred smirked, locking the door behind him. "Please. They still can't touch me. Hide and seek? Child's play."
The clone rolled his eyes. "Literally."
"Oh, someone's got an attitude problem," Alfred said, raising an eyebrow at the clone.
The clone didn't even look up as it gave him a side-eye. "Funny, considering I am you, and you're me—personality flaws included."
It was scribbling something on a piece of paper, and Alfred watched as precise symbols and patterns began to take shape.
"Tomorrow's Gacha day, right?" the clone asked, handing the finished paper over.
Alfred took it and unfolded the page, inspecting the intricate design. A fully detailed magic circle—clean, deliberate, and purpose-built. He nodded, impressed. "Yeah. Hoping for something useful this time. Not like last time..."
His face twisted in mild trauma.
"I still can't believe I pulled an entire year's worth of manga—from the same damn series. Or that one time I got... salt. Just salt. For a whole year."
" don't forget the time we got paper clips " the clone said
" oh the worse don't remember me of that "
He said well folding the paper and tucked it into his pants pocket with a sigh.
His eyes flicked over to the clone, who was now arranging tools, carving supplies, and a half-finished charm on the bedspread.
The clone was now crouched over the bed, arranging gear and materials in neat rows like some kind of obsessive prepper. Alfred watched for a second, then said, "Be careful. Stay safe."
with that he snaped his fingers together and disappeared form the spotted like he never exited at all
The clone let out a tired sigh, standing and stretching as he glanced at the dusty old clock on the wall.
"Time for dinner, huh?" he muttered. "Not like I need to eat… but gotta keep up appearances. Wouldn't want anyone getting suspicious."
He opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, blending seamlessly back into the life of a seemingly normal orphan boy in Gotham while his real body moved in somewhere else .
---
Alfred found himself standing in the heart of a vast grove, surrounded by a sea of flowers each petal a flawless shade of shimmering, ethereal pink. The color stretched endlessly in every direction, like the world itself had been dipped in soft light. The flowers swayed gently in a wind that didn't exist.
The only thing breaking the endless bloom was the towering structure in the distance a colossal tower floating just above the field, its foundation made from gleaming white marble. It shimmered like moonlight caught in crystal.
"Avalon," Alfred murmured to himself.
Not the myth. No, this was the Fate version the mystic prison where Merlin had been sealed away, unreachable by time or death. But this version of the tower had no Merlin. No watchers. No guardians. Just the emptiness of a forgotten miracle.
It was one of the rare things he'd won from a Gacha pull months ago. A pocket dimension of legend. A hidden world... and a perfect place to be alone.
The first time he came here, it had felt like a dream. A sacred, surreal gift. Now? It was just another place. Still beautiful, still untouched but familiarity dulled wonder.
His boots brushed softly through the flowerbeds as he walked toward the floating tower, his movements calm, almost lazy. He didn't even bother to marvel at it anymore.
He'd seen it too many times.
As he entered the grand hall of the tower, the place was littered with items from books about magic to an entire collection of One Piece manga. There were other items as well, like guns and magical weapons, which were out of place and didn't match the aesthetic of the grand old place. But Alfred didn't care much about appearances only about utility.
Still, looking at the mess, he knew he had to clean the place and organize all the items properly. But that could be done tomorrow. Today, he was going to use one of the magic circles he had been working on to see if it would work or not.
Before that, he opened his gadget panel to check the assimilation process of the character that was being assimilated.