Stevan had been sitting on the floating golden cushion for what felt like ten years.
In reality, it had only been a few days inside the Tower of Fate, which meant only a few hours had passed in the normal, outside world. Time magic was very confusing, and it gave Stevan a terrible headache.
"Okay, let me get this straight," Stevan said, rubbing his eyes behind the golden faceplate. He pointed a golden finger at a large, heavy book floating in front of him. "If I say the word Klaatu, I summon a shield of air. But if I say Klaata, I accidentally summon a swarm of angry, magical bees?"
"Correct," Nabu's ancient voice echoed smoothly in his mind. "Pronunciation is the difference between Order and absolute Chaos. The ancient language of Atlantis does not forgive lazy tongues. Read the passage again."
Stevan let out a long, heavy sigh. He was surrounded by at least twenty floating books. Some of them were so old that the pages looked like dried leaves. Some of them didn't even have words; they just had glowing symbols that moved around on the paper like little ants.
One book, The Guide to Dark Dimensions, had actually tried to bite his finger when he opened it. Stevan had to use a magical golden chain just to keep the book open.
"I died, came to a superhero universe, and became a student all over again," Stevan muttered. "This is worse than studying for my history finals."
"Your mortal history finals did not determine the safety of the universe," Nabu reminded him without an ounce of humor. "If you fail here, planets burn. Try the incantation again. And focus on your breathing."
Stevan sat up straight. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs. He focused on the Amulet of Anubis glowing warmly on his chest. He read the weird, glowing symbols from the book in front of him.
"Alright. Let's make a ball of pure light," Stevan said. He raised his right hand. "Lumina... Invocat!"
A spark of bright energy appeared above his hand. But instead of a smooth, perfectly round ball of golden light, the magic suddenly stretched and twisted. It made a strange, squeaking noise.
SQUEAK!
Stevan blinked. The bright light faded.
Floating in the air above his golden glove was not a ball of light. It was a perfectly shaped, bright yellow rubber chicken. It fell onto his lap with a sad squeak.
Stevan stared at the rubber chicken.
Inside the helmet, there was a very long, very heavy silence.
"A rubber chicken, Stevan?" Nabu finally asked. The ancient god sounded deeply disappointed. "A rubber chicken provides zero illumination. It is a toy for dogs. How did you create a toy for dogs out of cosmic energy?"
"I... I think I thought about the letter 'C' instead of the letter 'L' when I said the word," Stevan admitted, feeling his cheeks turn red under the mask. He poked the rubber chicken. It squeaked again. "Hey, look on the bright side! I created solid matter out of nothing. That's pretty cool, right?"
"You turned pure, majestic magical energy into a joke," Nabu sighed. If a floating golden helmet could shake its head, Stevan was sure it was doing it right now. "We will pause the reading. Your human mind is losing focus. It is time to practice physical control. Stand up."
Stevan gladly threw the rubber chicken over his shoulder. It bounced down an upside-down staircase on the ceiling and disappeared into the maze of the tower.
Stevan floated down from his cushion and landed on the smooth stone floor.
"Summon the Ankh," Nabu commanded. "But do not throw it. Hold it. Feel the weight of the magic. Make it solid."
Stevan raised his hands. He pushed the magic out, drawing the cross-and-loop symbol in the air. The golden Ankh appeared, burning brightly.
Stevan grabbed the edges of the magical symbol. It felt like grabbing a bar of hot metal, but it did not burn his golden gloves. He grunted, using his muscles and his mind to force the magic to become solid.
The bright, fiery light slowly cooled down into solid, glowing golden metal. He was holding a heavy, physical shield shaped like the Ankh.
"I did it," Stevan smiled. "No chickens this time."
"Good," Nabu said. "Now, make three more. Fast. Chaos does not wait for you to catch your breath."
Stevan frowned, but he raised his hands again. He had a lot of work to do.
____________________
Far away from the quiet, snowy woods of Salem, Massachusetts, the world was very loud and very busy.
High in the sky, hidden inside the clouds, flew the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier. It was a massive flying aircraft carrier, packed with jets, weapons, and hundreds of secret agents.
Inside the main command bridge, Director Nick Fury stood with his hands behind his back. He was staring out the giant glass window at the clouds. His black eyepatch made him look scary, but right now, the only thing he was feeling was a massive headache.
The Battle of New York was over. The aliens were gone. But cleaning up the mess was a nightmare. The World Security Council was screaming at him for losing the Tesseract. The news reporters were asking questions he couldn't answer.
But worst of all, Fury had a brand-new problem that he could not control.
The sliding glass doors to the bridge opened. Agent Maria Hill walked in, holding a digital tablet. She looked tired. Her dark hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail.
"Report, Agent Hill," Fury said without turning around.
"The cleanup in Manhattan is moving slowly, sir," Hill said, looking at her tablet. "Stark is funding a lot of the damage repair out of his own pocket. Captain America is off the grid. Thor went back to space. Banner drove off with Stark."
"And the scepter?" Fury asked, his voice low and dangerous. "The alien weapon that can control human minds?"
Agent Hill paused. She tapped her screen. "Still missing, Director. It vanished when the new hostile took it."
Fury finally turned around. He looked at Hill with his one good eye. "He is not a hostile, Hill. If he was a hostile, New York would be a pile of ash right now. He helped save the city. But he is a massive security risk. He took a weapon of mass destruction right out of my hands with a parlor trick. I want to know who he is, where he came from, and where he sleeps."
"We are trying, sir," Hill said, bringing up a picture on the main giant screen on the wall.
The screen showed a blurry photo taken from a security camera across the street from the shawarma restaurant. Through the broken window of the restaurant, the camera had zoomed in.
It showed Stevan sitting at the table. He had just taken the golden helmet off. It showed his young, tired, normal human face.
"Facial recognition gives us nothing," Hill explained. "We ran his face through every database on Earth. The FBI, the CIA, Interpol, driver's licenses, passports, even library cards. Zero matches. It's like this kid didn't exist until yesterday."
Fury stared at the picture of the young man with messy brown hair eating a piece of bread. He didn't look like an ancient wizard. He looked like a college student who played too many video games.
"Everyone exists on paper, Hill," Fury grumbled. "Even ghosts leave footprints. He has to buy food. He has to pay taxes. He has to sleep."
"Well, right now, he is completely off the radar," Hill said. "After Tony Stark's driver dropped him off at the Stark Hotel, the guy went up to the penthouse. We had agents watching the building. But an hour later, our energy scanners picked up a massive spike of unknown radiation, the same kind he uses. And then... he was just gone. He didn't use the door. He didn't fly out the window. He vanished into thin air."
Fury crossed his arms. "Teleportation."
"It seems that way, sir."
"I hate magic," Fury muttered, rubbing his forehead. "I can deal with super-soldiers. I can deal with men in metal suits. I can even deal with giant green rage monsters. You just point them at the bad guys and get out of the way. But magic breaks all the rules."
"What are your orders, Director?" Hill asked.
Fury looked back at the picture of Stevan on the screen.
"Keep scanning the globe for that specific energy signature," Fury ordered. "The golden light he uses gives off a unique frequency. Set up a global alert. The second he pops up anywhere on Earth, I want to know about it. I want a team ready to move in five minutes."
"You want to arrest him, sir?" Hill asked, raising an eyebrow. "He single-handedly wrestled a Leviathan to the ground. Normal handcuffs aren't going to work."
"I don't want to arrest him," Fury said. "I want to talk to him. I want to know exactly what he plans to do with that scepter. Because if he decides to become the next Loki, we are going to need a very big gun."
_______________
Back in the Tower of Fate, Stevan was exhausted.
He was lying flat on his back on the smooth stone floor, staring up at the ceiling. High above him, an upside-down staircase slowly shifted and moved to the other side of the room.
He had spent the last twenty-four hours (in Tower time) practicing basic combat spells. He had learned how to throw golden energy discs, how to create magical chains to tie up enemies, and how to cast a spell of silence that blocked all sound in a room.
His brain felt like it was full of hot soup. Learning ancient Atlantean magic was hard work.
Suddenly, a very loud, very embarrassing sound echoed in the quiet magical library.
GRRRRRRUUUMBLE.
It was Stevan's stomach.
"Oh, man," Stevan groaned, putting a golden hand over his belly. "I am starving."
"The human body is so fragile," Nabu noted from inside the helmet. "It constantly demands fuel to maintain its weak biological functions."
"Yeah, well, if I don't get some fuel soon, your 'human vessel' is going to pass out," Stevan said, sitting up. "How much time has passed out there in the real world?"
"Roughly twelve hours," Nabu answered. "It is currently evening on the East Coast of the United States."
"Okay, I need to get some food. Real food. Not a magic rubber chicken," Stevan said.
He stood up and pulled the golden helmet off his head.
The heavy, ancient power of the Lord of Order instantly lifted from his shoulders. Stevan felt a wave of dizziness hit him. Using magic took a lot of physical energy. He stumbled backward and sat heavily on a wooden chair.
"Wow," Stevan breathed, rubbing his messy hair. "Taking the helmet off feels like running ten miles and then standing up too fast."
Nabu's voice spoke from the helmet on the table, much quieter now. "You are still new. The bond between mortal and magic drains the body. With time and training, your body will adapt. But for now, you must eat."
Stevan walked over to his magical bedroom door that he had created the day before. He walked inside, took off the bright blue and gold suit, and put on his normal, comfortable civilian clothes, a pair of dark jeans, a gray hoodie, and some sneakers.
He looked in the mirror. He looked pale and tired. But his eyes looked different. They used to be plain brown. Now, if the light hit them just right, there was a tiny, faint spark of gold deep inside his pupils. The magic was changing him, even without the helmet on.
He walked back out to the main room.
"Okay, I'm going to make a grocery run," Stevan said to the helmet.
Before he left the Stark Hotel, Tony Stark had visited him briefly. Tony, being the billionaire that he was, had handed Stevan a sleek black Stark Industries smartphone and a heavy, black metal credit card.
"You're new in town, Goldie," Tony had said. "This card has no limit. Use it for food, clothes, whatever. Just don't buy an island without telling me first."
Stevan was very grateful for Tony's generosity. It made being a homeless superhero a lot easier.
"I'm going to walk into the town of Salem," Stevan told Nabu. "I'll use a small spell to hide the Tower while I'm gone. I don't need teenagers exploring the woods to accidentally walk into our library."
"Be swift, Stevan," Nabu warned. "You are vulnerable without the helmet. Do not draw attention to yourself."
"I'm just going to buy some frozen pizzas and cereal," Stevan smiled. "How much attention can I draw?"
Stevan walked to the solid stone wall of the Tower. He focused his mind, remembering the feeling of the magic. He didn't have the helmet on, so he only had a tiny fraction of the power, but it was enough for this.
He stepped forward and phased right through the solid rock.
________________
Stevan stepped out of the invisible wall and into the cold evening air of the Massachusetts woods. The sun was just starting to set, painting the sky in deep purples and oranges. The pine trees smelled fresh and clean.
He looked back. To a normal human eye, there was nothing there but a snowy field. The massive, ten-story white marble Tower of Fate was completely invisible and untouchable, hidden by a powerful illusion spell.
Stevan pulled his hood up over his head to keep his ears warm. He put his hands in his pockets and started walking through the woods toward the distant streetlights of the town.
It took him about twenty minutes to reach a road. He followed the sidewalk until he found a large, brightly lit supermarket called 'Market Basket'.
Stevan grabbed a shopping cart and walked inside. The bright fluorescent lights hurt his tired eyes a little bit. Normal life felt very weird now. Only a few days ago, he was fighting aliens in the sky with Captain America. Now, he was trying to decide which brand of frozen waffles to buy.
He walked down the aisles, filling his cart. He grabbed milk, a huge box of sugary cereal, bread, peanut butter, deli meat, and six frozen pepperoni pizzas. The Tower didn't have an oven, but Stevan figured he could just use a quick fire spell to heat the pizzas up.
As he walked down the snack aisle, grabbing bags of chips, he noticed a TV hanging from the ceiling near the pharmacy counter. It was playing a news channel.
*"Cleanup continues in New York City today,"* the news anchor said. *"The Avengers have seemingly disbanded and left the city. However, questions still remain about the mysterious golden hero who appeared during the battle. Internet users have dubbed him 'Doctor Fate'. But who is he? And where did he go?"*
Stevan pulled his hood down a little lower over his face. He quickly pushed his cart away from the TV. He didn't want anyone looking too closely at him.
He went to the checkout lane. The cashier was a teenage girl chewing gum and looking very bored. She started scanning his items.
She looked at the mountain of frozen pizzas and junk food. Then she looked at Stevan.
"Stocking up for a blizzard?" she asked dryly, popping a bubble of gum.
"Uh, no," Stevan said, pulling the black Stark credit card out of his pocket. "Just a really long study session. College, you know?"
"Right," the girl said, totally uninterested. She swiped the heavy black metal card. The machine beeped, approving the purchase instantly. She handed him the receipt. "Have a good night."
"You too," Stevan smiled.
He grabbed the four heavy plastic grocery bags and walked out of the store. The cold night air felt good on his face.
He walked back down the quiet road, heading toward the dark woods.
As he reached the edge of the trees, a small car drove slowly past him. Inside the car were three teenagers driving home from a late shift at a fast-food restaurant.
The kid in the passenger seat looked out the window. He saw Stevan, a guy in a gray hoodie holding four grocery bags, walking straight into the dark, dense woods.
"Hey, look at that guy," the kid said, pointing. "Where is he going? There's nothing out there but trees and swamp."
"Maybe he lives in a tent," the driver laughed.
The passenger kept watching Stevan as the car drove by. He watched Stevan walk up to a completely empty spot in the snowy field. Then, the weirdest thing happened.
Stevan didn't stop walking. He didn't trip. He just... disappeared.
One second he was there, and the next, he vanished into thin air, right in the middle of the field.
The kid in the passenger seat rubbed his eyes. He looked back, but the field was completely empty.
"Dude," the kid said, his voice shaking a little. "I think I just saw a ghost carrying groceries."
The driver rolled his eyes. "Shut up, man. Salem is full of weirdos. It was probably just the shadows."
But the kid knew what he saw. The guy had literally vanished into a solid invisible wall.
___________________
Back on the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier, Nick Fury was sitting in his dark office, drinking a cup of cold, bitter coffee. He was reviewing files on the Tesseract and the Avengers Initiative.
Suddenly, the red phone on his desk beeped loudly.
Fury slammed his coffee mug down and picked up the phone. "Fury."
"Director," Agent Hill's voice came through the speaker. She sounded out of breath, like she had just run down a hallway. "We got a hit."
Fury sat up straight. His one eye focused sharply. "Are you talking about the Gold Wizard?"
"Yes, sir," Hill replied quickly. "Our satellites just picked up a massive spike of that unique energy signature. It's an exact match for the magic used in New York."
"Where is he?" Fury demanded. "Is he back in Manhattan? Is he near Stark?"
"No, sir. That's the weird part," Hill said. "The energy spike didn't come from New York. It came from a remote, wooded area in Massachusetts. Specifically, a town called Salem."
Fury frowned deeply. He looked at a digital map of the United States on his desk monitor. He zoomed in on Massachusetts. Salem was famous for one thing: witches.
"Salem?" Fury muttered. "What is a god-level magic user doing out in the woods in Salem? Is he taking a historical vacation? Or is he hiding something out there?"
"The energy spike was brief," Hill explained. "It flashed for about two seconds, and then the area went completely dark again. It looks like he used a cloaking spell or some kind of shielding technology. Our satellites can't see anything on the ground but trees."
"He's setting up a base," Fury said. His mind worked quickly, putting the pieces of the puzzle together. "He stole the scepter, and now he's building a hiding spot. He thinks he can just drop off the map. He is wrong."
"Do you want me to send a strike team, Director?" Hill asked. "We can have a quinjet there in thirty minutes."
"No," Fury said sharply. "No strike teams. If this guy really has magic, regular soldiers with rifles are just going to make him mad. I don't want to start a war with someone who can turn a tank into a teacup."
"Then what do we do, sir?"
Fury leaned back in his leather chair. He looked at a file sitting on the corner of his desk. It was a black folder with a red hourglass symbol on the front.
"We don't send soldiers to catch a ghost," Fury said softly. "We send a spider."
"You want me to call in Agent Romanoff?" Hill asked.
"Yes," Fury ordered. "Tell the Black Widow her vacation is over. I have a scouting mission for her. I want her to go to Salem, Massachusetts. Tell her to pack warm clothes and stay in the shadows. I want to know exactly what Doctor Fate is building in those woods. And I want to know where my scepter is."
"Understood, Director. Making the call now."
The phone clicked off.
Nick Fury stared out the window of his office into the dark night sky. Stevan thought he could hide. But S.H.I.E.L.D. always found out the truth. It was only a matter of time before the spy met the sorcerer.
"Enjoy your woods, Fate," Fury whispered to himself. "Because the real world is coming to knock on your door."