Good Luck
---
As the chaos unfolded around him, the weight of his situation settled heavily on his shoulders. He wasn't just a spectator in a movie anymore — this was real, and he was in the thick of it. Every scream, every explosion, every tremor in the ground reminded him of the stakes.
Standing in the corner of an alley, he pressed his back to the wall, his breathing shallow. His thoughts raced.
'What do I do? '
On one hand, he could lay low, hide until the battle was over. That's what any sane person would do, right? After all, in the movies, the Avengers would handle it. They'd win — eventually. But even as that thought crossed his mind, doubts crept in:
- 'What if a building collapses where I'm hiding?'
- 'What if I'm in the wrong place at the wrong time?'
- 'What if I get caught in Hulk's rampage or an alien blast?'
He looked down at his scraped palms, the faint sting grounding him in reality. Hiding might not be as safe as it sounded.
Then another thought surfaced, something desperate but hopeful. 'The Sanctum Sanctorum.'
The Sorcerer Supreme. She had to exist at this time, right? If the Avengers were real, then so was the Ancient One. He vaguely remembered from the *Doctor Strange* movie that the Sanctum was somewhere in Greenwich Village. He didn't know the exact location, but he had a general idea.
But could he trust her? In the movie, the Ancient One had seemed wise and compassionate, but she also wielded forbidden power, drawing energy from the Dark Dimension. What if she saw him as a threat? What if she just… erased him?
Still, the alternative wasn't great. He had $15 in his pocket, no shelter, and no real plan. The streets of New York weren't safe, especially now. And if there was even the slightest chance he could find help — or maybe learn something like magic to protect himself — it was worth the risk.
He took a deep breath, pushing off the wall. His decision was made.
---Scene Break---
Elsewhere, in the quiet halls of the New York Sanctum, the Ancient One sat cross-legged in meditation. The faint hum of the Eye of Agamotto pulsed in the room as she opened herself to the flow of time.
The universe whispered its secrets, and with each breath, she felt the delicate threads of fate aligning. But then — a tremor. Subtle at first, but unmistakable. A disturbance.
Her eyes opened, glowing faintly green as she looked through the lens of time. The threads of reality had shifted slightly, out of sync. She began to search for the cause, the Eye of Agamotto responding to her will.
The world darkened around her vision, save for a single point of light: a young boy wandering the streets of New York, his figure vivid and unmistakable. But something about him was… *off*. His presence felt like an anomaly, something foreign to the natural flow of events.
She frowned, narrowing her focus to learn more, but the threads around him were strangely blurred, as though the timeline itself resisted her gaze. She could see no future tied to him, no past to explain his existence. It was as if he had simply *appeared*.
"Curious," she murmured.
The Ancient One stood, lifting her hand to draw a shimmering portal into the Mirror Dimension. If this boy was truly the source of the disturbance, she would observe him first. She stepped through the portal, her surroundings transforming into a fractured, kaleidoscopic version of the city.
From a vantage point above the street, she watched him. There he was: young, unremarkable in appearance, but undeniably unique in presence. He seemed lost, his face a mix of fear, determination, and confusion.
For now, she chose to remain hidden, observing. But the question lingered in her mind: 'Who are you? And why are you here?'
---
Unaware of the Ancient One's gaze, the boy trudged through the chaos, navigating the panicked crowds and the growing destruction. The sounds of war echoed in every direction, but he forced himself to keep moving.
"Greenwich Village… It's somewhere near Greenwich," he muttered to himself, clutching the newspaper he'd taken earlier. He scanned the street signs, trying to piece together the geography of a city he only vaguely knew from pop culture.
Every step felt heavier, the enormity of his decision weighing on him. He glanced at the sky, where alien ships loomed and Avengers fought valiantly.
He couldn't help but feel small. Insignificant. What could he possibly do in a world like this?
But he pressed on, his resolve hardening. If he was going to survive — if he was going to figure out why he was here — he needed answers. And the Sanctum was his best bet.