The café’s polished glass façade gleamed under the neon glow of Times Square, its upscale charm a stark contrast to the bustling chaos outside. Sebastian Shaw stepped inside, his eyes immediately finding Victor seated by the window, silhouetted against the city’s electric pulse. A grin spread across Sebastian’s face as he strode over and slid into the chair opposite Victor. He raised a hand to signal the waiter, then turned to his friend. “Victor, how long have you been in town?”

Victor set down his coffee mug, its steam curling in the air. “About two weeks. I’ve got an apartment nearby, settling in before the State University of New York starts.”

“You’re locked in for admission?” Sebastian asked, leaning back.

Victor nodded, a touch of restraint in his smile. “My grades held up. Applied, waited, and got the acceptance. What about you? When are you applying?”

“Funny you mention that,” Sebastian said, his tone light. “I’m also aiming for the State University of New York this year. If it pans out, we’ll be classmates.”

Victor’s mug froze mid-air. His eyes widened, then softened with a warm nod. “That’s incredible. I was wondering if we’d end up at the same school, given our age difference. But the same grade? That’s a twist I didn’t see coming.”

The waiter arrived, setting a steaming mug before Sebastian. He lifted it, clinking it gently against Victor’s in a quiet toast. They sipped in unison, the rich aroma grounding the moment.

Victor glanced around, his eyes sharp, then snapped his fingers. A subtle ripple pulsed through the air, and Sebastian felt an invisible veil envelop them, muffling the café’s hum.

“Just a small spell,” Victor said, his voice low. “I’ve isolated our space. Outsiders can see us talking but can’t hear a word. We can speak freely.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, impressed. “Neat trick. Makes catching up a lot easier.”

Victor leaned forward, curiosity glinting in his eyes. “I’ve always wondered about that secret magical place you mentioned. As far as I know, nothing like it exists on Earth. No pressure to share, of course—we can talk about something else.”

Sebastian studied Victor’s earnest expression. There was no guile there, only genuine interest. Besides, Asgard wasn’t a secret he needed to guard from a fellow sorcerer. He decided to be candid. “It’s not exactly a ‘magical secret place.’ I went to Asgard. You’ve heard of it, right?”

Victor’s brows shot up. “The realm of the Norse gods?”

“Not quite gods,” Sebastian corrected, his tone wry. “They call themselves that, but they’re more like advanced aliens. Your average Asgardian is about three times stronger than a human. Their elite warriors? Far beyond that.

Their magical technology is top-tier, some of the best in the universe. But because they’re so powerful, they don’t bother much with pure magic anymore. They’ve got spells that could shake worlds, yet they haven’t produced a true sorcerer in ages.”

Victor leaned back, awe flickering across his face. “Asgard is real… and aliens exist.” He shook his head, processing. “It’s a lot to take in.”

Sebastian smirked. “Magic’s real, Victor. Aliens and so-called gods aren’t that big a leap, are they?”

Victor laughed, his tension easing. “Fair point. Nothing wrong with that logic.”

“Speaking of magic,” Sebastian said, his tone shifting, “you’re looking stronger. What’s new with your skills?”

Victor’s smile turned proud but guarded. “I’ve finally mastered the spells my mother left me. It’s boosted my power significantly.”

Sebastian nodded, respecting the boundary. Even close friends like them didn’t pry into the specifics of each other’s magic. Some things were too personal, too sacred. They let the topic rest, content in their shared understanding.

Sebastian Shaw lifted his coffee mug, the warm ceramic brushing his lips as he took a sip. He opened his mouth to speak to Victor, but a sudden commotion outside the café shattered the moment.

A tall, blond man—barefoot, clad in a white short-sleeved shirt and beige trousers—stumbled into the heart of Times Square. His broad shoulders and commanding presence drew every eye. Within moments, a fleet of sleek black cars screeched to a halt, encircling him. From one emerged a man in a black leather trench coat, his single eye glinting with authority.

Sebastian’s gaze sharpened. He knew them instantly.

The one-eyed man was Nick Fury, the steely director of S.H.I.E.L.D. The blond, with his chiseled features and unmistakable aura, could only be Steve Rogers—Captain America.

Steve’s disoriented stance suggested he’d just been thawed from decades in ice, a living relic awakening to a strange new world.

Sebastian’s curiosity about Steve’s return was fleeting. His mind raced to a far weightier question: If Captain America is awake, how soon will Thanos’s Chitauri army descend? The battle for the Tesseract, housing the Space Stone, was likely imminent. And with it, the Mind Stone’s shadow loomed.

The stakes were colossal. The Space Stone and Mind Stone alone were reason enough for Sebastian to act. But more pressed on him. His presence in this world had already altered its course—ripples from his battles with the Mandarin and the Ten Rings could shift the Chitauri invasion’s scope. If it weakened, fine. But if it grew fiercer, larger, he couldn’t stand idly by.

New York was his home. Alisha, his friends—they were here. The so-called Security Council’s reckless plan to nuke the city during the invasion, as he recalled from movies, was unthinkable. He couldn’t uproot everyone he cared about. The only path was clear: intervene, contain the Chitauri, and ensure no nuclear strike razed his city.

Victor’s voice snapped him back. “Sebastian?”

Sebastian blinked, offering a quick smile. “Sorry, Victor. I was lost in thought—mulling over a magical problem.”

Victor waved it off, his eyes warm with understanding. “No need to apologize. I get like that too. We’re cut from the same cloth, you and I.”

Sebastian nodded, grateful for the camaraderie, but his mind lingered on the war to come.

———————-

Sebastian Shaw parted ways with Victor, opting not to hail a cab or weave a spell. Instead, he wandered through the vibrant chaos of Times Square, the city’s pulse thrumming around him. Neon lights flickered, and the chatter of passersby blended into a familiar hum.

Victor felt like a kindred spirit—a young sorcerer, vibrant and idealistic, yet tempered by a pragmatism that mirrored Sebastian’s own. Unlike the rigid mystics of Kamar-Taj, Victor brimmed with energy, his worldview occasionally veering into shadow but never enough to fracture their bond. Their unspoken understanding, forged through years of correspondence, felt like a friendship decades old.

Still, both held their magic close. It wasn’t about trust or loyalty—instinct demanded a sorcerer guard their secrets. Only the deepest bonds could pry those open, and they weren’t there yet.

Ding!

Sebastian’s phone chimed, snapping him from his thoughts. The device, an ordinary smartphone transformed by Tony Stark’s genius, doubled as a micro-terminal linked to JARVIS. He unlocked it with a fingerprint, revealing a message from Tony.

He tapped it, and the text morphed into a holographic video, projected in the air. Classic Tony flair, Sebastian thought, shaking his head at the ostentatious tech.

“Sebastian, get to my place,” Tony’s hologram said, his voice casual but firm. Grease streaked his face, tools clattering in the background as he tinkered. “You’re back, so let’s talk company business.”

Sebastian pocketed the phone, a sigh escaping him. His to-do list was a mountain: company matters, then a visit to the Ancient One. Over a year had passed since their last meeting, and he owed the Sorcerer Supreme a conversation—especially with the Chitauri threat looming.

He’d never wanted a sprawling business empire. A quiet life, studying magic and perfecting potions, was his dream. But reality was relentless. Even with Tony’s friendship, relying on his endless support wasn’t an option—Sebastian’s pride wouldn’t allow it.

Spotting a secluded alley free of cameras, Sebastian raised his Sling Ring. Space twisted into a swirling vortex, and he stepped through. On the top floor of Stark Tower, another portal shimmered open. Sebastian emerged, spotting Tony hunched over a workbench, engrossed in some new contraption.

Sebastian sauntered to the bar, pouring himself a glass of sparkling soda and mixing Tony a whiskey. He carried both to the workbench, setting the whiskey by Tony’s right hand. Leaning against the table’s edge, he sipped his drink. “Alright, I’m here. Let’s talk about the company.”

Tony didn’t look up, his fingers dancing over holographic data. He grabbed the whiskey, downing it in one gulp. His cheeks flushed as he exhaled, still focused. “I’ve been crunching numbers. With Mark Ω’s tech, I can build a device to automate potion brewing. Frees you up to focus on restoring those old recipes.”

“Thanks, Tony. That’s a game-changer,” Sebastian said, genuinely grateful. “But what about the energy conversion magic? If it’s still at Mark Ω’s level, it’ll guzzle power.”

Tony finished his calculations, spinning to face Sebastian with a grin. “I haven’t been idle this past year. I’ve made leaps in every field. If I could cast spells myself instead of working off your notes, we’d be even further. The arc reactor’s magic power supply is close to a breakthrough.”

“My fault,” Sebastian admitted. “I’ll be Earth-side for a while. If you need me for tests, I’m in.”

Tony leaned back. “You mentioned college. Where’re you applying?”

“State University of New York,” Sebastian said. “Thoughts?”

Tony shrugged. “Decent. Not bad, but not stellar.”

Sebastian stifled a groan. Coming from the guy who’d graduated MIT at seventeen, it was almost a compliment. “If SUNY’s ‘decent,’ what’s MIT?”

“My alma mater?” Tony smirked. “It’s… alright. High praise, coming from me.”

Alright Stark, Sebastian thought, amused. Very on-brand.

“College’ll give me more time for magic and potions,” Sebastian said, refilling his glass. He turned to Tony. “By the way, that potion I developed—does it work on all bloodborne toxins?”

Tony nodded. “Yup. If my palladium poisoning isn’t too far gone, it’d neutralize it. Same for snake venom, natural toxins, you name it.”

Sebastian’s eyes lit up. “So, you’re thinking of launching it as an injection? Our company’s first product?”

“Exactly,” Tony said, his voice brimming with excitement. “To make a splash, we need a showstopper at the press conference. A magic potion’ll do it.”

“Why stop at one?” Sebastian countered. “I’ve got an external wound-healing potion and an internal injury recovery potion. Bundle all three into injections. Three groundbreaking potions—that’ll turn heads.”

Tony’s grin widened. “Perfect. You prep the formulas and production details. I’ll build the brewing device and handle the rollout.”

“Deal,” Sebastian said, clinking his glass against Tony’s empty one.

They chatted a bit longer, hashing out logistics. As Sebastian stood to leave Stark Tower, a prickle of instinct made him pause. He turned, and a golden portal sparked open beside him. On the other side stood the Ancient One, her serene presence commanding the air.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep