Location: Mark's Tower, New York City
Date: Tuesday, January 31st, 1989
Mark POV:
Beads of sweat trickled down Mark's brow as he finished the final set of his workout, courtesy of the exercise regime Cortana had put together for him.
After thoroughly inspecting every floor of the tower, a few things had become clear.
First, the building was little more than a bare shell. Structurally sound and capable of keeping the weather out, but otherwise completely unfinished. No lights, no wiring, no plumbing, no heating or air-conditioning, and not even an elevator.
It was essentially a blank canvas he could turn into whatever he wanted.
Eventually.
For now, it was just a massive, empty building that would take a considerable amount of time, effort, and resources to make livable.
The second thing however, was that with no interior partition walls to speak of, the empty floors provided plenty of space to train in private. Cortana had wasted little time taking advantage of that fact, setting him through a series of tests to establish his physical capabilities without any Force enhancement.
She had measured his reaction speed, running speed, stamina, and more. Then compiled the results, and used the data to develop a training program designed to bring him up to his natural physical limits as efficiently as possible.
Her preliminary estimates suggested that, at peak conditioning, his unenhanced physical capabilities would be at least twice those of an average human in most measured categories. Except for his stamina, which will be much greater.
His initial response to the training regime she had presented him with had been to accuse her of being a slave driver.
Cortana had taken the complaint in stride and informed him that his opinion had been noted. Then she had reminded him that he was the one who had asked to become stronger.
Which was how he ended up sweating through a workout that made a certain Caped Baldy's famous exercise routine look downright leisurely.
Still, Mark could not deny that he appreciated the effort she was putting into helping him. He could not order her to do anything after all.
Cortana was not simply making him exercise for the sake of it. She was gathering data, identifying weaknesses, and tailoring his training to his actual capabilities. If he wanted to become a hero in a world full of superhuman threats, then understanding exactly what his body could do and pushing it as far as it could safely go was a sensible place to start.
Their training sessions had also brought them to a broader discussion of his current capabilities.
Mark had plenty going for him. Thanks to the Force, his reflexes, agility, and ability to anticipate danger were great, while his perception was extremely high. But he was lacking in a good physical defense and a strong, preferably long range offensive option to deal with tough opponents.
He needed something from the store that would at least let him handle a superhuman fistfight himself, rather than having to rely on someone else to handle the heavy hitters.
'Like the Four with the Skrull.' he thought.
He knew that was not exactly right, he had gotten himself into their fight. But someday, sooner or later, he would need to face something that required more strength than he had, and there would not be anyone around to help him face it.
That said, speed and agility suited Mark better than being a bruiser anyway. So if he could get something good from the store to augment his attacks, he would be much happier.
He stood, stretching his sore muscles as he checked his status.
Name: Mark Smith
Race: Human (Numenorean)
Age: 17
Equipped Template:
-Aragorn
Traits:
-Keen Mind
-Fair of Face
-Force Sensitive
Powers:
-Grace of the Valar: 52% -> 61%
-Aura of Majesty: 3%
Disciplines:
-Force Fundamentals: 90% -> 91%
Skills:
-Weapon Mastery: 10% -> 18%
-Wilderness Survival: 1%
-Elvish Language: 22% -> 38%
Items:
-None
He was happy with the recent increases at least. His progress had slowed, but this recent focus on training was changing that.
Cortana had also been determined to find the relationship between his ability's percentages and his store points. According to her, store points were not simply based on the percent increases.
Mark liked to think he had gotten to know her well enough to understand that what she meant was, 'I know how it works, I just don't have hard numbers yet.'
So to test her hypothesis, and get more data, Cortana had started learning Elvish to help accelerate his own mastery of the language.
With total mastery of all languages on Earth already, it did not take long before she had a grasp of the fundamentals and was helping him focus on what would best accelerate his understanding. Meanwhile Mark would correct mispronunciations and expand their vocabulary. He had only just started trying to write in Elvish, but that had been slower progress so far.
Even so, he was earning more points. But he was not eager to spend them on the current stock.
Current Points: 6
Time Until Restock: 1 Month+
1. Discipline: Spiral Energy(Gurren Lagann) - 256 points
2. Character: Morrigan Aensland(1/3 Power)(Darkstalkers) - 32 points
3. (Empty)
4. Item: ★ Saiyan Space Pod(Dragon Ball Z) - 16 pts
5. Item: Bludgers x2(Harry Potter) - 4 points
6. (Empty)
7. Template: Shino Aburame(Naruto) - 8 points
8. (Empty)
9. Power: Quirk(Earphone Jack)(My Hero Academia) - 2 points
10. Mundane Object: Spider-Man Suit(Marvel) - 1 point
He only got a brief look at the store.
Mark whirled around as a disturbance in the Force pulled his attention away.
An all-too-familiar portal had opened in the center of the room, its fiery orange sparks spiraling around the circular gateway. Mark stared at it, momentarily frozen. He recognized it immediately from the Marvel movies.
When it opened, the expected figure in blue robes, dark hair streaked with gray at the temples, and the red flowing cloak stepped through.
"Greetings. I am Doctor Stephen Strange," he announced, his gaze sweeping over the vast, empty room with a wary gaze before settling on Mark, "Master of the Mystic Arts."
"Hello..." Mark replied, frantically trying to think of a reason Strange might have come here.
Strange studied him in silence for a moment, his expression unreadable. There was nothing particularly hostile about his demeanor, but the intensity of his attention made Mark feel as though he were standing under a microscope.
"I'm going to need to ask you a few questions," Strange said, "First, where exactly are you from? And second..." his eyes narrowed slightly, "How did you get here?"
At those words Mark's blood ran cold, 'Oh. Shit. He is here for me.'
At the same time, an odd sensation crept over him. It was subtle at first, then it deepened with the unsettling impression that Strange was looking past his skin and bones, peeling away the layers of his being in search of something hidden underneath.
"What are you doing?" Mark asked with narrowed eyes, and instinctively gathered the Force around himself, drawing it close like a shield. The invasive feeling faded somewhat.
Strange's eyebrows lifted almost imperceptibly, "Interesting."
His gaze sharpened as he regarded Mark anew, "I was trying to determine what you are. You look human, but many things wear such disguises."
His eyes flicked briefly over Mark, as though reconsidering his earlier assumptions.
"Now," he continued, "would you care to explain where you came from? Or should I assume that the mysterious energy surrounding you is the least unusual thing about you?"
'Damn, he can actually detect the Force?' Mark thought, suppressing a sigh, 'Well, I suppose it makes sense that a few people in this world can tell I am not from Marvel. And if there is anyone who would realize, it is Strange.'
"I am... from Earth, just not your Earth. My name is Mark." he said, taking a more relaxed posture.
Strange offered no immediate response. He simply watched Mark, his expression unreadable, "I got here... Well, I do not really know how I got here."
"You don't know," he repeated, as though testing the answer for inconsistencies, "Did you deliberately cross into this universe, or did something bring you here?" he asked coolly.
Mark remained quiet for a moment. He had not planned on revealing much, but perhaps Strange knew something about what had happened to him. If anyone could make sense of an interdimensional transfer, it was probably him.
Besides, Mark was not sure how much he could afford to hide from someone who could apparently peer into his very being.
"...I died."
For the first time, Strange's expression shifted noticeably. His eyes settled more intently on Mark, though he made no move to interrupt.
"I... awoke in an empty black void. I became aware of some information. That something was trying to fix damage to multiple universes, and it sent me to a damaged universe of my choice as part of the fix. I chose Marve-"
Mark caught himself, "I chose this world."
Strange's eyebrows rose a fraction, "Marvel?" he asked dryly.
Mark's stomach dropped, 'Oh, come on.'
Strange, did not press the matter however. He folded his arms, his expression settling into one of measured scrutiny, "Let me see if I understand you. You died, woke up in some sort of void, received information from an unknown source, and were given the opportunity to select a damaged universe to inhabit."
He paused, "And you chose ours."
"Yeah, pretty much." he replied matter-of-factly.
"In fairness, I've heard stranger explanations for interdimensional travel." his expression grew more serious, "But I have a few concerns. What exactly do you mean by damaged? And this thing that sent you here, did it tell you what was wrong with this universe, or what it expects you to do about it?"
"There was no conversation. I got... information downloaded directly into my mind. I only became aware of what it chose to tell me. I got the impression it was an above cosmic level being, but that is more of an educated guess than anything."
Strange remained silent, listening and Mark took a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing, "From what I gathered, something tried to consume a universe. It failed, and whatever happened caused damage to the universes nearby. I did not get much detail beyond that. Honestly, it did not seem like I was supposed to know the specifics."
Mark shrugged, "I was just... part of the fix, somehow. I was not told about the rest of the repair and I was not given a mission or told to do anything. I was just voluntold I was going on an adventure in the universe of my choice."
Strange stared at him for a moment, "Voluntold," he repeated.
"Yeah."
"Charming." but his expression suggested he found the arrangement considerably less charming than the word implied.
"An unknown entity capable of communicating directly with your mind, moving you between universes, and apparently repairing damage on a multiversal scale has decided to involve you in its work without bothering to explain what that work entails. And you have no idea why?"
"Nope."
"Of course not." Strange exhaled through his nose and glanced briefly toward the space where his portal had closed, as though reconsidering several assumptions he had made before arriving.
"Well, that narrows things down considerably."
He looked back at Mark, "By which I mean it tells me almost nothing. But if your account is accurate, then whatever brought you here is operating on a scale that makes ordinary interdimensional travel look rather trivial."
He unfolded his arms and began pacing slowly, apparently turning the information over in his mind,
"Now, one more question. Since arriving here, have you noticed anything unusual? Changes in your abilities, gaps in your memory, an inexplicable urge to do something specific?" he paused, "Or has your mysterious benefactor been kind enough to leave you entirely to your own devices?"
Mark narrowed his eyes slightly and mentally retraced the events since his arrival, searching for anything that might have seemed out of the ordinary.
Nothing immediately came to mind. And while blaming some of his more questionable decisions on outside interference was certainly tempting, he doubted it would hold up under scrutiny.
"No. I am fully myself. So far as I can tell anyway. Now, am I lucky enough that you happen to know something about my little... experience? And, more importantly, are you willing to share?"
Strange stopped pacing, "That depends on what you're hoping to hear."
He regarded Mark for a moment, then continued, "I know that crossing between universes isn't as simple as opening a door. Even when you know where you're going, there are risks. The fact that something managed to deposit you here without people like myself immediately knowing is... very noteworthy."
His expression grew more thoughtful, "As for an entity capable of repairing damage across multiple universes, I can't say I've encountered anything that fits your description. Not without considerably more information, at least."
He held Mark's gaze, "But there's something I'd like to establish before we go any further. You said you chose this universe. Why this one?"
A small smile spread across Mark's face, "Heroes." he answered simply, "This world has heroes, and it needs heroes. I want to be one, too."
Strange regarded him in silence for a moment, his expression difficult to read, "Is that so?"
His tone was neither approving nor dismissive. If anything, he seemed to be weighing Mark's answer against the person standing before him, searching for any sign that his words and intentions did not quite align.
"Well, I suppose that's a better reason than most."
He paused, his expression growing more serious, "However, wanting to be a hero and actually being one are two very different things."
Strange offered no further explanation, but Mark's smile did not falter.
"I came here to determine whether you posed a threat to this world. For the moment, I'm willing to leave you to your own devices."
He raised one hand, orange sparks beginning to spiral into existence between his fingers, "Don't mistake that for trust. I have no idea what brought you here or what it might expect of you. Until I know more, I'll be keeping an eye on things."
Strange glanced toward the forming portal, then back at Mark, "I'm sure we'll speak again."
With that, he stepped through the portal. The fiery ring contracted behind him, scattering its last sparks into the air before vanishing completely.
Mark was left alone, and for a few seconds, he stared at the empty space where the portal had been.
'Well,' he thought, letting out a slow breath, 'That could have gone worse.'
He had known that Strange protected Marvel from interdimensional threats but Mark had not considered that extra universal travelers like him would also fall into the category of potential threat.
If he had not been on a heroic path, and especially if he was just doing whatever he pleased, this visit would probably have been the end of his adventure.
He had little doubt that Strange could have dealt with him if he had decided Mark was a threat. Whether that meant incapacitating him, banishing him somewhere unpleasant, or simply eliminating him, and Mark really did not want to find out.
Then his thoughts drifted back to Strange's examination, 'Actually... even choosing different powers could have been the end of the road... Sure, only an idiot would willingly open themselves up to the Warp. But what if I had picked the psyker ability from the store anyway?'
He grimaced, 'If Strange had sensed a connection to something like Chaos, that definitely would have been the end of the road. Maybe a one-way trip to meet Mephisto, or somewhere even worse.'
Mark shook his head. No point worrying about a choice he had never made, 'Strange is not my enemy. Not unless I give him a reason to be. So I just have to stick to the plan, do what I came here to do, and protect this world.'
But that, however, brought another thought front and center. About something he had no control over, 'Who else knows I am here? And who is going to come looking for me?'
Strange had found him. That alone proved Mark was not as unnoticeable as he had hoped.
And this was Marvel.
Somewhere in this universe, there was probably someone with an ability to detect interdimensional anomalies, track unfamiliar energies, see possible futures, or otherwise discover things they had absolutely no business knowing. And if nobody had the exact power needed, there was always the possibility that someone would develop it, acquire it, or turn out to have had it all along.
That was just how Marvel worked.
So the question was not whether someone else could find him.
It was who would come looking, and if he was ready when they did.
-----
Location: Caldecott County, Mississippi
Irene Adler - Destiny POV:
For months, Irene had been trying to understand the sudden change in the future.
Her power had allowed her, for more than a century of life, to perceive the branching possibilities of the future. She had learned to read their patterns, weigh their likelihoods, and recognize the moments when a seemingly insignificant choice would determine the fate of entire lives.
Nothing like this had ever happened before.
Normally, the most likely future would gradually lose certainty as another possibility strengthened. Even sudden, dramatic shifts followed patterns she could recognize and account for.
But months ago, those patterns had broken.
The change had not been gradual. One day, the familiar lattice of probabilities had simply... shifted.
Entire branches she had spent years weighing, cultivating, and pruning had clouded over or vanished altogether, replaced by new configurations that refused to settle. The farther ahead she looked, the worse the distortion became. Critical junctures that had once offered clear, if difficult, paths now fractured into competing possibilities, many of them hostile to the future she and Raven had spent years working to secure.
Most troubling of all, the changes were not random.
Something was influencing the future.
And at last, Irene believed she had identified the source.
Raven entered the room without announcing herself, as she often did when Irene had been withdrawn for too long. She crossed to the chair opposite and sat down, waiting patiently for Irene to speak.
"I believe I've finally isolated the variable."
Raven's posture sharpened, though she remained silent.
"A man," Irene continued, "He appeared in none of the futures I charted before the disruption. Not as a participant, not as a distant possibility. Nothing."
She turned her blind face toward Raven, though her inner sight remained fixed on the shifting web of probabilities.
"Yet the major divergences I've been tracking increasingly converge on his actions. He is becoming a significant influence at several critical junctures. If the present course continues, many of the paths we've spent years preparing will close."
She paused, "Our plans will not survive his continued influence unchanged."
Raven considered that for a moment, "Who is he?"
"I know very little. He has appeared in New York, where he has begun associating with the new costumed champions. His influence is still relatively small, but it will grow."
"And his intentions?"
"Unclear." Irene's mouth tightened slightly, "He appears to be acting of his own accord. The farther his influence extends, the less reliable my sight becomes. It is not simply that he creates new possibilities. It is that the futures surrounding him are less certain, he is… opaque in a way I have rarely encountered."
Raven leaned back, absorbing the information, "Is he a threat to us?"
"Potentially."
"Then do we remove him?"
Irene did not answer immediately. She examined the newest cluster of futures again. Some offered advantages. Others ended in consequences she could not yet interpret. Even his absence was difficult to assess. The possibilities did not converge on any reliable outcome.
That, more than anything, troubled her.
"We don't know what his removal would cost," she said at last, "We know only that his continued presence is changing the future, and not necessarily to our advantage."
"And if he closes every path we have left?"
Irene's expression remained composed, "Then when his continued existence threatens more of our futures than it preserves, we will have to consider how best to correct the problem."
Raven held her gaze for a moment, then inclined her head.
Outside, the Mississippi night remained quiet.
Far away, in a city already giving rise to new legends, a man continued to move through the world, unaware that his presence had begun to undermine plans years in the making.
And now, at last, Destiny had found the source of the disturbance that somehow fractured the futures that should have been. Not a catastrophe. Not a war. Not some great cosmic power announcing its arrival.
A man.
Someone who had never appeared in any of her visions before the future began to change.
There was one other detail Irene had chosen not to share with Raven.
In some of the possible futures, this man formed an important connection with Rogue.
The possibilities were distant, uncertain, and far from inevitable. They might amount to nothing at all. But Irene had learned long ago that the smallest possibility could become the hinge upon which an entire future turned.
For now, she would keep it to herself.