Chapter 2

Interlude:

The use of the Eye of Agamotto by the Sorcerers Supreme to safeguard the Earth began when Agamotto himself left it to the next Supreme before his passing. To watch the timelines and defend against extra-dimensional intrusions. It was passed down from one Supreme to the next as one of their sacred duties.

The current Sorcerer Supreme, only known as The Ancient One by the members of the Masters of the Mystic Arts, was doing that exact duty now. She was sitting in meditation as she peered through time and space.

The countless possible deviations of infinite timelines branch off from one moment to the next—each one from this moment until she could no longer see any further.

It had been long ago that she knew she would die. She was going against the code of the Mystic Arts and using extra-dimensional energy to extend her life until the next Sorcerer Supreme would be ready to take up the mantle.

But even now, new timelines are being created and will birth countless more.

It was these new lines she was following. One branch, in particular, drew her attention because it went farther than all the others she had witnessed before.

Something that would change even HER fate in the future had occurred. The path of this future grew hazy and less concrete the farther it reached out. And so she went to its origin.

A cascade of outcomes that should not happen, all of them originating from one man. 

In all other timelines, a man who should not be alive died during the experiment conducted upon him, left to be forgotten by the universe and time itself.

What concerned her most was this man's power. He bent and reshaped reality around himself—his training as an emotionless soldier and executioner for evil masters made her fear the worst. She dove deeper into the stream of time.

Watching as he so easily killed those who experimented on him wasn't a good sign. But her urge to deal with this potentially catastrophic threat lessened as she continued to see only a desire for life. A passion for freedom of choice.

He experienced new emotions for the first time as he traveled far and wide for years. She feared that with rage and anger being the first, it might swallow him till that was all there was, turning him into a walking cataclysm. But he learned to control them over time.

His training remained ingrained in him. He killed those who tried to kill him without hesitation, without empathy. But he was growing, learning compassion, acting selflessly in the aid of others.

Fate was playing a joke on her. As it happened, he finally decided to stop his travels right on her doorstep.

The initial worry of the emotionless ravager he could become had eased into curiosity. 

He lived a peaceful existence in Kathmandu. Healing the sick and injured without seeking compensation. His kindness and compassion did not appear to be a mask for sinister intent.

She had sent a few of the Masters to watch over him daily. From the reporting of the latest few, he can sense that he is being watched but seems to leave them be as long as they do the same.

After two years of observing this "Dante," as he now calls himself, she decided to invite him into the Sanctum to speak with him. 

But that would have to wait. A group of soldiers are coming to meet him. His involvement in what is to come plays no small part in the future of this world and others. She had seen chaos and salvation hinge on key moments surrounding him and his future allies.

There is still time later for their talk over good tea.

____________________________________

-OC-

When I woke up this morning, being asked to deal with a world-ending threat wasn't what I expected to happen.

Playing off that, I was just a medicine doctor, was thrown out the window when this, Natasha Romanoff, pulled out a phone and showed me a video recording of the Hydra team I killed in Germany two years ago, along with several still images of me from around the world even recently. They were among the few who had been watching me recently, having seen me heal the local people.

I agreed to go with them wherever they were supposed to bring me. If it was all a ruse, I could deal with them quickly, nipping yet another paramilitary group in the bud.

I still kick myself for not getting more info on Hydra's base locations from that research lab. The assault team member I interrogated didn't know more than where they were ordered to take me. When I got there, whoever was there cleaned and wiped everything. A pile of ashes told me they destroyed everything they couldn't carry.

The technology and the ability to track me even after all this time, even changing my appearance, made me wonder how many groups like this exist; this makes two now. 

The military load-out and feeling of some of these soldiers gives me deja vu. 

As we made our way by an SUV to a flat mesa some miles away, where they had an advanced jet transport waiting, I tried getting further info on who exactly had this "weapon." Romanoff gave little more than saying I would be fully briefed when we got to our destination, which was also being kept classified.

Loading onto the jet and taking off, I noticed another person seated with me who didn't fit in with this group.

An above-average-looking man with dark hair. Cleaning his glasses with the hem of his well-worn suit jacket, with an open manilla folder sat balanced in his lap.

I got a unique sense of tension from him. Akin to an intense feeling of rage, barely sitting below the surface of practiced, controlled calm.

Deciding to break the silence that took over since we took off. I got the man's attention,

"Hello, name's Dante," as I stuck out my hand 

Looking up from the folder, it seems like he's only just noticed I was here,

"Oh, hello. Bruce, Bruce Banner," he hesitates but eventually takes my hand in a short handshake, "So, you are the other one they had to pick up then?"

"It would seem so. Where'd they grab you from?" I asked, trying to keep the conversation going and get more information.

"Kolkata... the redhead up there used a young girl saying her father was sick to lure me out of the city before surrounding me with these guys." he nods toward the cockpit and around us.

"Interesting, so another... Doctor?..." he nods, "ended up receiving the same greeting as I did. At least I wasn't singled out." I smile and joke to him.

'The same team sent to bring him in was sent after me, too. They see him as much of a possible threat as me.'

I spend the next few hours talking to Bruce about little things, trying to get anything pointing to why they see him as a threat. Since this group already knows about my ability to heal, I discussed my power when focused on our work healing others in need.

Explaining how I can revert bone and damaged tissue to a perfect state and eliminate harmful bacteria and viruses in the body got his attention. But whenever I tried to move it in his direction, he was evasive and redirected to another topic.

I sensed I wouldn't get any more out of him than he was a gamma radiation expert and had become a part-time doctor to those who couldn't afford health care in poorer communities.

Eventually, we dropped out of the clouds and made our descent toward a rather large aircraft carrier floating in the open ocean and made our landing. 

Stepping out with Banner, I see the entire flight deck is active with the crew; even a column of soldiers jog a circuit around the flight deck.

We are not the last to arrive as another jet sets down next to ours, and two men step out. One wears a suit that almost feels government-issued, and the other is more casual with a brown leather jacket, plaid shirt, and jeans.

While traveling, I'd gone to more than a few libraries and museums, so it'd be almost impossible not to recognize Captain America. But after what I went through and what I can do. Seeing him alive after supposedly dying back in WWII is not all that strange.

The two walk over to us as the suit greets Natasha.

"Agent Romanoff," he nods, "This is Captain Rogers." a subtle smile he is trying to contain slips through.

"Ma'am," Rogers greets her.

"Hi," Natasha nods softly, then returns to the suit, "Coulson, they need you on the bridge. They're starting the face-trace."

Coulson nods and heads toward the tower on the side of the carrier.

"Doctor Banner?" Rogers sticks out his hand to shake

"Uh, yeah, hi." Bruce greets back

"Word is you can help find the cube?"

"Is... that the only word on me?" Bruce looks around nervously

I don't know what this guy is trying to hide yet, but it seems to be something negative, and I'd put money on it has something to do with all that rage in him. 

"It's the only word I care about," Rogers reassures him.

Looking to switch topics like he did with me, Bruce asks,

"Must be... strange for you... all of this," gesturing around the flight deck at the modern technology and aircraft. 

He looks around,

"Well, this is actually kinda familiar."

As the two make small talk, my attention since getting off the jet has been on a strange feeling I've been getting from some of the crew working across the deck. It's the same one I got from the soldiers before, but I waved off as deja vu—a feeling of being watched and analyzed, making notes on me.

I'm taken out of my thoughts when Natasha calls out to the three of us.

"Gentlemen, you might want to step inside in a minute... it's about to get a little hard to breathe," she states

The carrier beneath our feet lurches, and the sounds of machines spinning up grow louder and louder. An alert goes across the ship for the flight crew to secure the deck. Men and women race to strap down and secure the aircraft above deck.

The sound of churning water from around the ship makes Rogers question.

"Is this a submarine?" he asks.

"Really... they want ME in a submerged, pressurized metal container?" Bruce scoffs

We all feel the ship shift and watch as the carrier doesn't sink but rises out of the water with four massive propellers.

"Oh, no, this is MUCH worse!"