Max bided his time, enduring the indignity of being tucked into his crib and swaddled in the indestructible tablecloth.
He waited patiently, listening to the rhythmic creaking of the farmhouse as it settled into the night.
By midnight, both Maria and Monica were fast asleep.
It was time to get to work.
He closed his eyes and reached out with his mind, pushing his intent beyond the walls of the house.
Out in the moonlit pasture, a patch of darkness twisted and rose, taking the shape of a towering, red-eyed Shadowkhan.
Max didn’t just summon it; he shifted his consciousness, projecting his mind into the shadow ninja.
The sensation was bizarre but seamless.
He could see the farmhouse through the ninja’s glowing red eyes, feeling the cool night air against its phantom form.
With a mental command, he ordered the ninja to step backward into its own shadow.
The world dissolved into a rush of inky blackness, and a moment later, Max—through his ninja proxy—was standing in the Shadow Dimension.
The dimension was unexpectedly serene.
It wasn’t a hellscape of fire and brimstone, but rather a perfectly flat, obsidian expanse covered in a thin layer of swirling, silvery mist.
Looking around, Max estimated the space to be exactly a 100-meter radius circle.
Beyond that border was an impenetrable wall of absolute, shifting void.
Suddenly, a gentle, omnipresent hum resonated within the space, and a mental voice brushed against Max’s consciousness.
It was genderless, calm, and utterly devoted.
> *”Welcome, Master.
I am the fabric of this realm.”*
>
Max blinked through his ninja host.
*You have a consciousness?*
> *”I am an extension of your soul and your Mana Heart.
As your mana capacity grows, the borders of this dimension will expand.
Furthermore, I govern the flow of time within this space.
For any being you designate as ‘unauthorized’—such as captives or hidden targets—time will completely halt.
They will enter a state of stasis and regain consciousness only upon exiting.
For those you grant permission, time will flow normally.”*
>
Max mentally grinned.
That was an incredibly overpowered feature.
He could store fatally injured people, dangerous enemies, or even freshly resurrected allies here, and they wouldn’t age a second or require food.
*I need to call you something,* Max thought.
He remembered the fierce, loyal first member of Shadow Garden from his old life’s favorite anime.
*I’ll name you Alpha.*
> *”I am honored, Master.
Alpha stands ready.”*
>
With the dimension’s mechanics understood, Max decided it was time to review his troops.
He commanded Alpha to summon the entirety of his current forces.
From the mist, nine more ninjas materialized, dropping to one knee in perfect unison around the one Max was currently possessing.
Ten ninjas in total.
Max disconnected his direct possession, his consciousness snapping back to his infant body in the crib, while maintaining a mental link to the dimension.
Through the eyes of the squad, he ran them through a series of physical tests within the 100-meter circle.
The results were solid, if grounded.
* **Physicality:** Each ninja possessed the strength, speed, and agility of a peak-trained human athlete or special forces operative.
* **Arsenal:** They were equipped with a variety of melee weapons—katanas, bo staffs, and nunchaku.
* **Ammunition:** They could summon an infinite supply of throwing kunai and shuriken directly from their own shadowy mass.
*Alpha, what is their operational range?* Max asked, staring at the ceiling of his nursery.
> *”Currently, they cannot stray beyond a 1,500-mile radius from your physical body, Master.
Additionally, the further they travel toward the edge of that limit, the more their physical strength and structural integrity will degrade.”*
>
Max did some quick mental geography.
New Orleans, Louisiana, to New York City was roughly 1,300 to 1,400 miles.
It was pushing the absolute limit of his current tether, meaning his ninjas would be significantly weaker when they arrived.
But for an espionage and scouting mission, raw strength wasn’t strictly necessary.
A plan began to form.
He checked his mental calendar.
**December 6, 1991.**
Max’s eyes widened in the dark.
*1991.* Ten days.
In exactly ten days—on December 16, 1991—the Winter Soldier was scheduled to run Howard and Maria Stark off a lonely stretch of road in Long Island, assassinating them to steal the super-soldier serum in their trunk.
If Max intervened, the timeline would shatter.
Tony Stark might never become Iron Man.
The Avengers might never form properly.
But as Max lay there, he remembered the rule of his new existence: he had Karma to burn, and he had the power of absolute *Resurrection*.
He didn’t need to save them from the crash; he just needed to secure their bodies before their souls dissipated, hide them in the time-stopped Shadow Dimension, and let the timeline proceed as if they had died.
*Alpha, deploy the squad,* Max ordered, his infant face hardening into a look of absolute concentration.
> *”Awaiting your targets, Master.”*
“Four of them are to remain here at the farmhouse.
Two will sink into Maria’s shadow, and two into Monica’s.
They are to protect them at all costs and remain completely undetected.”
“Send two to Long Island, New York.
Have them map the roads and locate secluded, wooded areas suitable for an ambush.”
“The remaining four are to head to New York as well.
Their target is Howard Stark.
They are to find him, sink into his shadow or his vehicle, and wait.”
In the Shadow Dimension, the ten ninjas bowed deeply.
The four designated guards melted into the floor, slipping through the dimensional barrier to reappear seamlessly in the dark corners of the Rambeau house.
The other six vanished, utilizing the dimension to bypass physical travel, reappearing across the country on the snowy streets of New York.
Max closed his eyes, settling into the soft fabric of his tablecloth Blanket.
The board was set.