Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

New York had descended into chaos.

But it wasn’t just the Avengers fighting to repel the alien invasion.

The NYPD was in the war too.

At first, dispatchers had assumed the emergency callers were delusional.

Then Chitauri began pouring into every borough.

Patrol officers flooded the radio with identical reports.

After several seconds of collective disbelief...

Everyone accepted the same terrifying conclusion.

The aliens were real.

There was nothing left to debate.

Protecting civilians was a police officer’s duty, regardless of whether the threat came from organized crime... or an extraterrestrial invasion force.

Unfortunately, service pistols and patrol rifles were a poor match for alien technology.

Their battle was brutal.

"Captain!"

A soot-covered officer jogged toward the precinct commander.

"The National Guard says they’ll arrive in about an hour."

The middle-aged police captain nearly coughed up blood.

"An hour?"

He threw his hands into the air.

"At that point they might as well send a recovery team."

He took a steadying breath.

"Does the military even know what’s happening here?"

The younger officer shrugged helplessly.

"How would I know?"

Before the conversation could continue, another wave of Chitauri descended.

The police raised their weapons.

Then...

A deafening stream of automatic fire erupted behind them.

That wasn’t police issue.

The captain turned.

Charging down the street came a grizzled man in his fifties wearing woodland camouflage.

Ammunition belts crisscrossed his chest.

An M249 light machine gun roared in his hands.

"You alien bastards!"

He sprayed the sky while shouting at the top of his lungs.

"You’ll pay for invading the United States with your blood!"

"I’ll defend my country no matter the cost!"

Astonishingly...

Every burst seemed to hit something.

Chitauri flyers spiraled from the sky one after another until the immediate area was briefly secure.

Anyone carefully studying the trajectories, however, would have noticed something strange.

The aliens weren’t actually falling to the old soldier’s machine gun.

The fatal shots originated from rooftops on both sides of the street.

Someone else was doing the killing.

The old man was simply drawing everyone’s attention.

He slung the machine gun over one shoulder and strode up to the police captain.

"There are still civilians trapped inside those buildings."

"If they come out onto the streets, they’ll walk straight into enemy fire."

He jabbed a finger toward the nearby subway entrance.

"Get your officers inside."

"Evacuate everyone through the tunnels."

Then he swept his arm toward the avenue.

"Establish a defensive line from here to Thirty-Ninth Street."

"Understood?"

The captain wiped spit from his face.

"...Why exactly should I take orders from you?"

The stranger answered by grabbing him by the front of his vest.

"I’m General Ross of the United States Army."

He practically shouted into the captain’s face.

"Would you like to compare which of us knows more about urban combat?"

Without waiting for an answer, he fired another burst skyward.

More Chitauri immediately dropped from the air.

The captain silently wiped his face again.

The soot covering it had been replaced almost entirely by someone else’s saliva.

Still...

He wasted no time grabbing his radio.

"All units, execute the evacuation plan!"

Frankly...

When someone appeared to be carrying an entire battle on his own, arguing over jurisdiction seemed like a terrible idea.

A figure wearing red, white, and blue suddenly landed atop a nearby police cruiser.

The captain nearly jumped.

Turning around, he found Captain America standing behind him.

"...Need something?" the captain asked.

Steve Rogers glanced at the officers.

Then at Ross.

Then at the evacuation already underway.

"...No."

Apparently, someone had already handled everything he’d intended to organize.

After helping eliminate another group of Chitauri, Steve quietly ran toward the nearest building.

He needed the rooftops.

As he climbed the stairwell, one thought echoed painfully through his mind.

Why is every dramatic entrance I try to make becoming awkward lately?

Inside an office building overlooking the avenue, a woman dressed in a fitted nun’s habit lowered her sniper rifle.

She pressed a finger against her communications device.

"My lady."

"This is Veronica."

"The delivery has been made."

"Awaiting further instructions."

After a brief pause, Salara’s voice answered.

"Well done."

"Escort our actor to safety."

"Then begin cleanup."

"Recover every body."

"Bring them all back to the Hive."

"Understood."

Veronica ended the transmission.

Several blocks away...

Ulthalesh clicked her tongue.

"What terrible souls."

Since manifesting, the rooftop had effectively become forbidden territory.

Any Chitauri approaching the building found their souls silently harvested before their bodies simply fell from the sky like broken marionettes.

Even so...

Ulthalesh looked thoroughly disappointed.

"When you mentioned a war..."

"I thought there would be countless worthy souls to harvest."

She sighed.

"What a disappointment."

She walked toward the waiting scythe.

"They’re completely lacking in quality."

"I’ve seen enough."

"I have urgent business to attend to."

Evenson looked at her.

Urgent?

You mean finishing that Hearthstone match?

He could practically picture it.

Ulthalesh reverting to her towering nightmare form, sitting across a card table.

Who would ever dare defeat someone that terrifying?

Reaching the Artifact Weapon, Ulthalesh prepared to dive back into it.

Then she paused.

There was still one formality to complete.

She doubted the answer.

But tradition demanded she ask.

"You know who I am."

She turned toward Evenson.

"So..."

"Will you help me destroy..."

"No."

Evenson interrupted before she could finish.

Ulthalesh’s expression darkened.

The pressure around her intensified.

"...What did you say?"

The newly branded runes on Evenson’s arms blazed brilliantly.

He met her gaze without flinching.

"If you’re asking me to destroy Sargeras..."

"You should wait until I’ve become intoxicated by your power and lost the ability to think clearly."

He smiled.

"Fortunately..."

"I’m not there yet."

He spread his hands.

"You know your own limits."

"It doesn’t matter how many souls you harvest."

"Even at your absolute peak..."

"You still couldn’t kill the fallen Titan."

Ulthalesh’s face grew colder.

"You’ve become rather irritating, little warlock."

Few dared speak that truth aloud.

Fewer still survived doing so.

"But..."

Evenson continued before she could respond.

"I can make you a promise."

Ulthalesh narrowed her eyes.

"What promise?"

"Sargeras will be imprisoned."

Evenson’s voice was steady.

"He’ll lose his freedom forever."

He smiled faintly.

"Isn’t eternal imprisonment even crueler than death?"

"And think about it."

"He’ll spend eternity alone."

"No one to talk to."

"No one to manipulate."

"...Not even Hearthstone."

For the first time...

Ulthalesh’s emerald eyes lit up.

She was genuinely tempted.

"You can guarantee that?"

"I can."

"Sargeras will be sealed."

Ulthalesh studied him for several long moments.

Finally...

"Very well."

"You’d better not fail."

Her smile returned.

"If you do..."

"I’ll simply choose another master."

"And you already know exactly whose soul will belong to me."

"And how I’ll repay the disappointment."

She glanced toward the glowing runes covering his arms.

"Fortunately..."

"Those marks should allow you to survive borrowing my strength."

She extended one hand toward him.

"Then let me lend it to you."

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