Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

"You said things won’t stay peaceful."

Nick Fury studied Evenson carefully.

"Why?"

"It’s not because of me."

Evenson shook his head.

"It’s because of someone else."

"Who?"

Instead of answering immediately, Evenson glanced around the office, his gaze lingering on the seating area by the windows.

"Are we really going to have this conversation standing up?"

Fury looked over his shoulder at the sofas.

"...Have a seat."

Those sofas rarely saw use.

Aside from Fury himself and the occasional visit from Alexander Pierce, agents normally remained standing while delivering reports or receiving orders.

Of course, Evenson knew none of that.

Even if he had, he wouldn’t have cared.

Fury wasn’t paying his salary.

"Would anyone like something to drink?" Fury asked.

Since they were sitting anyway, he might as well play host.

"Tea."

Tea wasn’t cheap in America, and Evenson rarely bought it for himself.

Fortunately...

This wasn’t coming out of his wallet.

Coulson accepted the unspoken assignment and headed for the refreshment station.

"And don’t put milk or sugar in it," Evenson called after him. "Just steep the leaves."

Despite living in the United States for two decades, Ryan Mercer’s old preferences still lingered. He had never managed to understand drowning tea in milk and sugar until it barely tasted like tea anymore.

A few minutes later, everyone had a cup.

Evenson sipped his with obvious satisfaction.

Natasha looked pleasantly surprised.

Coulson and Fury, meanwhile, exchanged identical expressions of quiet suffering.

"So..." Evenson looked toward Natasha.

"You actually like it?"

She smiled.

"My training taught me to adapt to local food and drink anywhere in the world."

She took another sip.

"But this isn’t bad."

"The flavor grows on you."

"I’ll take that as a genuine compliment."

Evenson nodded approvingly.

"Tea like this helps me think."

"Unfortunately, it’s expensive enough over here that I don’t get to drink it very often."

Fury’s eye narrowed thoughtfully.

A ritual?

Part of a spellcaster’s discipline?

For one dangerous moment he seriously considered replacing every beverage available at S.H.I.E.L.D. with plain brewed tea.

Then reality intervened.

Half his agents would riot before lunchtime.

He caught himself.

Focus.

How did we end up discussing office beverages?

Coulson had warned him about this.

Somehow, every conversation with Evenson wandered miles away from its starting point.

Fury cleared his throat.

"Mr. Richter."

"You were about to explain why you expect things to become unstable."

"Right."

Evenson set his teacup down.

"On the way here, I passed an unusual amount of military hardware entering the city."

"Helicopters."

"Armored vehicles."

"Fully equipped soldiers."

"I even spotted equipment that looked suspiciously like sonic weapons."

He looked directly at Fury.

"Don’t tell me it’s an exercise."

"I could feel their state of mind."

"They’re preparing for a real operation."

"So?" Fury asked.

"What does that have to do with you?"

"I live here."

Evenson’s answer was immediate.

"If the city’s thrown into chaos, my life gets thrown into chaos."

"I don’t enjoy that."

Fury leaned back.

"If events unfold the way you’re imagining..."

"What will you do?"

Evenson’s expression became utterly serious.

"If armies want to fight each other somewhere else, that’s none of my business."

"But..."

"If anyone barges into my home and threatens me..."

"I have no problem sending them straight to Hell."

"Wars don’t stay neatly contained," Fury replied.

"Once they begin, no one controls every consequence."

"I know."

Evenson nodded.

"I’m not expecting miracles."

"If a real military conflict reaches the city, innocent people will inevitably get caught in it."

"I understand that."

His voice hardened.

"I’m talking about the vultures."

"The looters."

"The people who use chaos as an excuse to prey on everyone else."

"Those are the ones I won’t tolerate."

Fury gave a small nod.

"As long as you clean up after yourself..."

"I won’t lose sleep over people like that."

Frankly, he had far larger problems to deal with than opportunistic criminals.

If Evenson quietly removed a few predators during a crisis without attracting public attention...

Fury could live with it.

"Fortunately," he continued, "none of that is necessary."

"The forces you saw belong to General Ross."

"They’re conducting an operation to capture a dangerous target."

"There won’t be a war."

"There won’t be widespread unrest."

"General Ross..."

Understanding dawned almost instantly.

"They’re hunting..."

"The Hulk?"

For the first time that afternoon, genuine surprise crossed Fury’s face.

"You know about the big green guy?"

Knowing who the Hulk was wasn’t remarkable.

Connecting Ross directly to the Hulk, however...

That wasn’t public knowledge.

Evenson smiled faintly.

"I know more than you think."

"I have... unusual sources."

It was also a convenient excuse for the future.

Sooner or later he’d inevitably reveal knowledge he shouldn’t possess.

Better to establish the explanation now.

"Unusual sources?"

Fury’s interest sharpened immediately.

"What kind of sources?"

"Mental communication."

Evenson slipped smoothly into one of his increasingly polished fabrications.

"When a spellcaster’s mind becomes powerful enough, it functions like a broadcasting tower."

"We can project our thoughts across great distances."

"Spellcasters communicate directly through mental links."

Fury frowned.

"So there are others."

"Other magic users."

"What did you expect?"

Evenson spread his hands.

"Did you think I invented all of this by myself?"

"Magic has traditions."

"Teachers."

"History."

"No system survives with only one practitioner."

His expression darkened slightly.

"Although..."

"I may very well be the world’s last Warlock."

"I see."

Fury absorbed the information silently.

"So your network gives you access to information we don’t have."

"Sometimes."

Evenson shrugged.

"There are things S.H.I.E.L.D. knows that I don’t."

"There are things I know that S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn’t."

"And there are things we both know."

"As for which is which..."

He smiled.

"I’ll leave that to your imagination."

Fury held his gaze for several long seconds.

Then he stood.

Without a word, he walked behind his desk, opened a folder, and withdrew a single printed sheet.

He returned and handed it to Evenson.

"Then perhaps..."

"You can tell me whether you recognize this."

The moment Evenson saw the image on the page, his expression froze.

...You’ve got to be kidding me.

Inside his head, he was already cursing someone with heartfelt enthusiasm.

Horwyst... you absolute bastard.

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