Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

"Famine. Pestilence. War. Death."

Evenson spoke the four words with unsettling calm.

"Those are the great agonies woven through human history. Every time they descend upon the world, countless lives are lost. Kingdoms collapse. Civilizations crumble."

He paused, his voice taking on a quiet conviction.

"And yet... they are also humanity’s revelations."

"Each time mankind survives one of these catastrophes, people emerge wiser. Stronger. Civilization moves forward. And when humanity grows complacent, when it forgets the price of peace and loses the will to advance..."

"...another revelation arrives."

Steve stared at him for several long seconds.

Had he come to the wrong place?

This was definitely not how he’d imagined the meeting.

The psychologists Fury had introduced all sounded equally dreadful. They would lock him in a tiny office, ask abstract questions for hours, make him stare at inkblots, while unseen observers watched from behind one-way glass.

Just thinking about it made his skin crawl.

That was why he’d chosen Evenson instead.

Among the list of psychologists, Evenson’s name stood out precisely because it wasn’t followed by a string of academic titles.

Steve had assumed the conversation would be casual. Relaxed.

A friendly chat.

Instead, five minutes later he was listening to an occult consultant explain the Four Horsemen as engines of civilization.

Therapy by a Warlock, Steve thought.

What’s next? Seeing a Faceless One for stress management?

"You don’t believe me," Evenson observed with an amused smile.

"It’s not that."

Steve rubbed his forehead.

"I’m just... trying to follow your reasoning."

Evenson leaned back.

"Since the Renaissance, Western civilization has advanced at an extraordinary pace. Philosophy, science, politics, technology. Much of the modern world’s foundation was laid during that era."

His eyes sharpened.

"But what forced that transformation?"

Steve opened his mouth.

Then closed it.

Several possible answers flashed through his mind.

Humanism.

Printing presses.

The rediscovery of classical learning.

None of them felt complete.

He’d never been much of a scholar. Growing up poor during the Great Depression, then enlisting before he’d had much of an education, history had always been something he’d lived through instead of studied.

"The Black Death."

Evenson answered his own question.

"It devastated Europe."

"Entire regions lost a third of their population."

"In some places, half."

"Others suffered even worse."

He folded his hands.

"To the people living through it, it must have seemed like the end of the world."

Steve nodded slowly.

"But that catastrophe also shattered nearly a thousand years of unquestioned authority."

"People realized the Pope couldn’t save them."

"They realized kings and nobles died just as easily as peasants."

"The old certainties broke."

"And once they broke..."

"...Europe changed."

"The civilization that had remained comparatively stagnant for centuries accelerated almost overnight."

"The intellectual foundations of the modern West were laid during the recovery."

He looked directly at Steve.

"That’s the lesson."

"Great civilizations don’t become extraordinary because they avoid suffering."

"They become extraordinary because they survive it... and learn from it."

Steve scratched the back of his head.

"...I can see the argument."

Then he frowned.

"But your philosophy sounds... a little like HYDRA’s."

After all, HYDRA also believed humanity should be forced through hardship for the sake of progress.

Evenson laughed.

"That’s an unfortunate comparison."

"I’m hardly inventing the idea."

"Open any serious book on the Renaissance. Most historians acknowledge the Black Death as one of its major catalysts."

"It’s even covered in high school history."

He gave Steve a suspicious look.

"...You did finish high school, right?"

Steve immediately caught the silent jab.

"My education..." he replied with complete sincerity, "...is probably better than yours."

"If I remember correctly, you never even finished middle school."

"What’s wrong with that?"

Evenson protested instantly.

"So I dropped out of middle school."

"I’m not ashamed of it."

Though, privately, he made himself a promise.

One day, he was absolutely going to acquire an impressive academic title.

The Scourge employed enough professors.

Surely someone loosely affiliated with the Burning Legion deserved an honorary doctorate.

Maybe he’d visit those two Eredar Warlock instructors who spent more time in nightclubs than lecture halls and see if they could certify his "qualifications."

He coughed and forced his wandering thoughts back on track.

"Let’s talk about you instead."

"I’ve read your file."

"There were many candidates for the Super Soldier Program."

"You were physically the least qualified."

"So why did Dr. Erskine choose you?"

"And why did it work?"

Steve smiled.

"You’re about to tell me it’s because I’d already suffered."

"Not exactly."

"You ever notice all those alleys outside?"

Evenson nodded toward the window.

Steve followed his gaze.

Brooklyn had changed enormously over the decades.

Most of the old streets were gone.

Still...

"I got beaten up in just about every alley around here."

"Did you ever win?"

Steve answered without embarrassment.

"No."

"Not once."

"But you never truly lost, either."

Evenson’s voice softened.

"Unless you were unconscious, you always got back up."

"No matter how badly they beat you."

"In the end, they were the ones who walked away."

Evenson leaned forward.

"Tell me something."

"If staying down would’ve meant taking fewer punches..."

"...why didn’t you stay down?"

Steve fell silent.

His thoughts drifted to a promise he’d never had the chance to keep.

A dance.

A woman waiting for him decades ago.

Someone had asked him that exact question once.

He lowered his eyes.

"Because if you stay down once..."

"...it gets easier to stay down forever."

He looked back up.

"You stand."

"You fight back."

"And eventually they learn not to come after you again."

Evenson smiled.

"There it is."

"Those beatings were your hardship."

"And every time you stood back up, you defeated it."

"That’s what forged your spirit."

"The serum didn’t make Captain America."

"It amplified the man who was already there."

"That’s why you surpassed every other candidate."

"And that’s why you never became another Red Skull."

Many people believed Captain America was shackled by morality while Red Skull, free of conscience, represented true freedom.

Evenson disagreed completely.

Red Skull wasn’t free.

He was enslaved by his own ambition and power.

The man capable of restraining himself was the true master of his strength.

Steve rose from his chair.

"I’ll admit..."

"...you’ve given me a lot to think about."

"I also have plenty more catching up to do."

He extended his hand.

"But I still believe a hero shouldn’t only help people endure suffering."

"A hero should prevent it whenever possible."

"That’s what I was created to do."

Evenson accepted the handshake.

"I’m glad your convictions haven’t changed."

Then his expression grew thoughtful.

"But history doesn’t possess compassion."

"The wheel of history keeps turning without caring what gets crushed beneath it."

"It won’t change course simply because one good man asks it to."

Steve’s blue eyes remained unwavering.

"I still believe suffering can be prevented."

"And if it can’t..."

"...then I’ll bear it myself."

Evenson watched him leave.

A righteous man, he thought.

If he’d been born two thousand years earlier, history might remember a very different figure hanging from a cross.

Once Steve was gone, Sarah began collecting the empty glasses.

"He reminds me of someone..."

"Arthas," Evenson said before she could finish.

"Arthas before his fall."

"Honorable."

"Brave."

"And..."

"...idealistic."

Wanting to shoulder humanity’s suffering alone was admirable.

It was also dangerously naïve.

Sarah lowered her gaze.

"So..."

"Interested in playing Mal’Ganis?"

"Or Ner’zhul?"

Evenson recoiled immediately.

"Absolutely not."

"Have you seen how that worked out for them?"

"One got cut down the moment his plan succeeded."

"The other ended up consumed during the merger."

"No thank you."

"I’d rather avoid career paths with guaranteed catastrophic endings."

He leaned back, a knowing smile creeping across his face.

"Besides..."

"Steve isn’t Arthas."

"Arthas grew up as a prince, sheltered from real failure."

"Steve spent his entire life getting knocked down."

"You could write an inspirational biography out of his childhood alone."

"He’s much harder to break."

His smile slowly became more enigmatic.

"But..."

"...he isn’t without weaknesses."

He turned toward Sarah.

"Go find that item."

"It’ll make an excellent key."

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