New York. The city that never sleeps.
It wasn't just a saying—it was a heartbeat, a pulse that never wavered. Neon lights flickered against wet pavement, casting an electric glow over the restless crowds. Taxis honked impatiently, weaving through streets that never emptied, while late-night diners hummed with quiet conversations—dreams being whispered over half-eaten plates of food.
To some, New York was chaos. To Lucian Castiel, it was a chessboard.
He had walked these streets for weeks, observing, listening, learning. Every skyscraper told a story of ambition, of someone who had fought and clawed their way up, refusing to be swallowed by the city. New York didn't care who you were—it only cared if you could keep up.
Lucian intended to do more than that. He intended to win.
It started a few hours ago…
Lucian Castiel woke up from a very disorienting sleep.
A headache pounded against his skull, a slow, relentless thrum that felt like the echo of something bigger—something unnatural. He inhaled sharply, his chest tightening with an unfamiliar sense of displacement. The air smelled different—hot asphalt, faint traces of coffee, and the ever-present hum of ambition pressing against the skyline.
This isn't right.
Lucian sat up abruptly, his breathing uneven. He was in a small apartment, the kind that barely passed as livable but still cost a fortune. The bed was unmade, clothes scattered haphazardly, an open laptop flickering on a cluttered desk. This wasn't his life.
Except… it was.
Memories flooded in—fragmented at first, then clear as crystal. Lucian Castiel. Twenty-four. Living in New York. Struggling in the entertainment industry. His hands clenched the sheets as two sets of knowledge fused together—the world he had left behind and the world he was now in.
Then, the realization hit him like a freight train.
He wasn't in his old life anymore.
Lucian exhaled slowly, fingers running through his messy black hair. No powers. No system. No cheats.
So what did he have?
His mind raced. In his old life, he had spent years learning human psychology, the way people thought, acted, and could be influenced. He knew ambition, hunger, the way desperation could turn into opportunity. And now… now he had something far greater.
Knowledge of the future.
Lucian's lips curled into a slow, satisfied smile.
He knew who would rise, who would fall. He knew which names would be etched in history—and which names were still unknown, waiting to be discovered.
And what did he want?
Wealth. Power. Legacy.
Lucian wasn't here to survive. He was here to win.
And he had already found his battlefield.
Entertainment.
The industry was brutal, ruthless. People clawed their way to the top, only to be devoured by those hungrier than them. But Lucian wouldn't be eaten.
He would build an empire.
An agency that would hold the greatest names in history. Camelot. A throne for the chosen.
His eyes gleamed. He had failed before—tried to break into the industry, only to be ignored, rejected, sabotaged. But that was when he was fighting blind.
Now?
Now he had the script.
Lucian stood, rolling his shoulders as he felt the weight of this new world settle into place.
He would start small, planting seeds, making moves in the shadows while others ignored him. And by the time they noticed?
It would already be too late.
(Later that night…)
He sat in MacLaren's Pub, the warm hum of laughter and conversation filling the air around him. The scent of aged whiskey and fried food mixed with the lingering musk of old wood and nostalgia. It was the kind of bar that had seen years pass but remained unchanged, a refuge in a city that never stood still.
At his table, Ted was mid-rant about architecture, gesturing wildly with his beer bottle as Marshall nodded along. Lily was curled up against Marshall's side, half-listening, while Barney had his sights locked on a woman across the bar.
They were his friends, at least the ones he made before he got his new memories.
Lucian simply watched.
"You're awfully quiet, Lu." Lily's voice cut through the conversation, her gaze curious as she studied him over her beer. "Not plotting world domination again, are you?"
Lucian chuckled, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "Not quite. But give it time."
Barney perked up instantly, slamming his drink down. "See? That's the kind of talk I like to hear! What's the play, Castiel? Are you finally accepting my offer to become my wingman? Because let me tell you, together, we could be unstoppable!"
Lucian smirked, taking a slow sip of whiskey. "Tempting, but I have my own game to win."
Marshall raised a brow. "Please don't tell me you're still on that whole 'talent agency' thing."
Ted shot Marshall a look. "Dude."
"What?" Marshall shrugged. "We all thought he dropped it. The industry's brutal, and no offense, Lu, but… you got your ass kicked."
Lily winced. "Yeah, it felt like every time you tried, someone slammed a door in your face."
Barney waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, come on, people get doors slammed in their faces all the time. You just gotta charm your way past them. I, for example, have never been denied entry to anything in my life."
Lily rolled her eyes. "That's a lie."
Ted leaned forward, studying Lucian. "But seriously, are you really still chasing this? I mean, after everything?"
Lucian's fingers tapped against his glass as he met Ted's gaze. "I never stopped."
The table fell silent for a beat.
Lily exhaled. "Wow. Okay. That's… unexpected."
Ted tilted his head. "So what changed? Why are you so deep in thought now?"
Lucian glanced toward the television above the bar, where a music channel played a segment on rising artists. A woman with a guitar flashed on-screen for a brief moment before the shot cut away. His expression didn't shift, but his grip on the glass tightened slightly.
"I was playing the wrong game," he said simply.
"What do you mean?" Ted asked, clearly curious.
"I scouted talents the wrong way."
Barney scoffed. "Please, spotting talent is easy. You just look for the hot ones."
Marshall shook his head. "That explains so much."
Lucian shook his head, amusement flickering across his face. "It's not just about spotting talent. It's about seeing the future before anyone else does. Knowing who will rise, who will fall, and who will change the game entirely."
Ted leaned forward, intrigued now. "Okay, so let's say you do have this 'eye for talent.' What's the plan? Start a record label? Manage celebrities?"
Lucian's gaze darkened slightly, though his smirk never wavered. "Something like that."
Marshall hummed. "I hope it turns out better this time for you, Lu."
Lucian simply lifted his glass in a silent toast before taking another sip. He wasn't ready to lay all his cards on the table yet. Not tonight. But soon.
The gang was quite fun to be with. He thought it would be a bit awkward to interact with them, but they were great picture people.
He may be a different person now, but he can still remember how he met all of them… or at least how the old him did.
(Flashback)
It was a particularly cold night, he sat alone in a cheap diner, staring at a cup of coffee he couldn't afford to refill. The city outside was still alive, still moving, uncaring of the fact that he was on the verge of giving up.
Then, he heard laughter from the next booth.
Lucian didn't walk into MacLaren's Pub that night expecting to meet anyone. He was just looking for warmth and cheap whiskey.
He took a seat at the bar, rubbing his temples, trying to silence the self-doubt gnawing at him.
That's when he heard a voice—loud, confident, and absolutely impossible to ignore.
"My friend, you have the look of a man who needs a legendary night."
Lucian turned his head slowly.
A man in a sharp suit grinned at him like they had been lifelong friends. Blonde, charismatic, and radiating an energy that was both ridiculous and oddly compelling.
"Barney Stinson," the man introduced himself, offering a hand. "And you are?"
Lucian hesitated before shaking it. "Lucian Castiel."
Barney's grin widened. "Strong name. Mysterious. I like it. Tell me, Castiel, have you ever considered the art of the game?"
Lucian arched his brow. "The game?"
Barney waved a hand. "Forget whatever tragic nonsense you're brooding over. What you need is a wingman. And lucky for you, I happen to be the best in the business."
Lucian chuckled, despite himself.
"Interesting. But I don't think I'm in the right line of work for that."
Barney frowned, as if that were irrelevant.
"Doesn't matter! If you roll with me, you'll be winning in no time."
Lucian smirked. "I don't lose."
Barney gasped dramatically. "Oh-ho! I like you already."
At that moment, a new voice chimed in.
"I'm sorry for disturbing your night."
Lucian turned to see a man with messy dark hair and a slightly exasperated expression. Ted Mosby.
"He's been at this all night," Ted added, shaking his head. "Don't let him trap you."
And with a whisper, "Save yourself."
Barney scoffed. "I rescued him from his tragic loner phase."
Lucian chuckled. "And you are?"
"Ted." He extended a hand, shaking Lucian's firmly. "Ted Mosby."
"Lucian Castiel."
Ted studied him for a second. "You new to the city?"
"Something like that."
Barney clapped his hands. "Excellent! A fresh start! You know what that means, Mosby? Our guy here needs the full New York experience."
Lucian smiled. "And what does that involve?"
Barney grinned like a con man about to pull the best scam of his life. "Everything."
___________________________________
By the time the drinks had flowed and stories had been exchanged, he realized something surprising—he actually liked them.
Marshall and Lily were a married couple who balanced each other out perfectly. Marshall was this big, lovable guy with a laugh that filled the room, while Lily had a sharp wit that made it clear she was the real boss.
Ted was a dreamer, a guy who had big plans but struggled to execute them. And Barney… well, Barney was chaos incarnate, but he was the kind of chaos that made life interesting.
They asked him about himself—where he was from, what he did. He gave them the vague version of the truth.
"I'm trying to build something," he had said simply.
Ted nodded, as if he understood. "Yeah. I get that."
Lucian had expected skepticism. Instead, Ted clinked his glass against his.
"To big dreams," he had said.
Lucian found himself smiling. "To big dreams."
(End of Flashback)
It's a memory this body has always cherished.
He may be a different person now, but he still yearned for that same ambition.
As they clinked their nth round of beers, Lucian thought,
'To big dreams.'