It seemed that she wanted to be alone for a moment... to clear her mind.
Luke had no belongings to pack—after all, he had arrived at Kamar Taj empty-handed.
The only question now was: where should he go next?
As someone who had been thrown into this world and immediately taken to Kamar Taj, Luke knew next to nothing about the outside world.
He wasn't even sure what point in the timeline he was in.
The only thing he could confirm was that the events of Doctor Strange hadn't started yet—The Ancient One was still alive, and Stephen Strange was nowhere near becoming Sorcerer Supreme.
"Well, first thing's first—gonna need a phone." Luke muttered to himself.
"A modern guy without a phone is like a sorcerer without magic."
Patting his empty pockets, he sighed and headed toward Mordo.
The square was still a mess, with mages diligently repairing the shattered tiles.
In the middle of it all, Mordo was mixing mortar, his sleeves rolled up as he worked alongside the apprentices.
It was an amusing sight—who knew the great Mordo was so hands-on?
"Hey, brother, lend me some cash. I'm heading down the mountain."
The moment Luke spoke, every mage nearby turned to look at him. S
ome with curiosity, others with suspicion.
Clearly, his little incident hadn't been forgotten.
Thankfully, Luke was thick-skinned enough to ignore them.
"Huh?" Mordo looked up, confused.
Then his gaze drifted over the wreckage of the square, and a look of understanding—and guilt—settled on his face.
"Luke... I'm sorry," Mordo said solemnly.
"I shouldn't have let you test your strength in the training grounds. This is all my fault. I really didn't think it would end up like this."
Luke raised an eyebrow.
'Huh. That's a new one.'
Mordo, apparently convinced that this entire fiasco was his doing, reached into his robes and pulled out all the cash he had—some crumpled bills and a few coins.
He handed them over to Luke without hesitation.
"…Seriously?" Luke blinked, staring at the total sum.
Four hundred bucks. And some loose change.
'Are all Kamar Taj wizards this broke?'
Still, he didn't hesitate to pocket the money. "Don't worry, man. A Lannister always pays his debts."
Mordo frowned. "Who's a Lannister?"
Luke chuckled but didn't answer.
Instead, he gave Mordo a final pat on the shoulder. "By the way, do yourself a favor—stay indoors for a while."
With that cryptic warning, Luke stepped through a flaming portal.
The orange glow of the portal faded.
When Luke opened his eyes, the serene, mystical aura of Kamar Taj was gone.
Replacing it was the bright, bustling chaos of a modern metropolis.
Neon signs flickered in the distance, towering skyscrapers loomed overhead, and the air smelled of a mix of car exhaust and street food.
He had arrived in the city at night, and judging by the familiar landmarks, there was no mistaking where he was.
New York.
Luke took a step forward, glancing at the street sign near the alley where he had landed.
'Clinton.'
"…Well, damn."
Hell's Kitchen.
He couldn't help but laugh.
Of all the places to land in the Marvel Universe, Hell's Kitchen was the starter zone—the Novice Village where almost every upstart hero cut their teeth.
It was practically a rite of passage to take down Kingpin and kickstart one's legendary journey.
Kingpin, in turn, was unofficially known as the Novice Village Boss of Marvel's underworld.
Luke exhaled and rubbed his chin. "Alright… so what the hell am I supposed to do here?"
He was a sorcerer from Kamar Taj.
Hell's Kitchen was a playground for street-level heroes—Daredevil, The Punisher, Jessica Jones.
Compared to fighting demons and interdimensional threats, dealing with mobsters and gang wars felt… underwhelming.
It was like a veteran player accidentally queuing up for a beginner's dungeon.
Taking to the streets.
Maybe it was the jet lag, but even though it was late at night, Luke didn't feel the slightest bit tired.
He wasn't alone, either—New York City never really slept, and Hell's Kitchen was no exception.
Even in the dead of night, the streets buzzed with activity.
The neon glow from bars and clubs painted the sidewalks in flickering colors, and the air carried a mix of car exhaust, greasy food, and something that smelled questionably illegal.
Women in heavy makeup loitered at street corners, leaning into whispered conversations before disappearing into dark alleys with strangers.
Groups of men, most of them covered in tattoos, gathered outside dingy nightclubs, engaged in hushed conversations.
They barely spared Luke a glance as he walked by.
"Is this really Marvel?" he muttered under his breath.
Where were the supervillains lurking in every alley?
The alien invasions?
The chaotic city battles?
Wasn't Hell's Kitchen supposed to be a crime-infested warzone?
Just as he was starting to doubt reality—
"Hey!" A voice called out behind him, rhythmic and cocky.
Hell's Kitchen never disappoints.
"Hand over the cash, now!"
Luke slowly turned around.
In the dim glow of a flickering streetlamp, two men stood in front of him.
Their dark clothing blended into the night, and each one clutched a knife.
No wonder he hadn't noticed them before.
Luke let out a small sigh of relief.
"Hey! I'm talking to you! Are you deaf?" one of them snapped, stepping closer and waving his knife threateningly.
Luke didn't hesitate.
With a casual flick of his wrist, he slapped the guy across the face.
Of course, he was careful!
After the whole dynamometer incident at Kamar-Taj, he had learned to hold back. This was just a light tap—really, just a gentle 'touch.'
But—
BANG!
The man flew backward as if he had just been hit by a wrecking ball.
Teeth and blood sprayed into the air as he crashed into a building, crumpling to the ground in a heap.
A slow, dark puddle began spreading beneath him.
Luke blinked.
"...Oops."
The second man stood frozen, his knife slipping from his fingers.
His wide eyes darted between Luke and his now-unconscious friend, his mind clearly struggling to process what just happened.
Luke sighed. "Hey, your buddy's got decent endurance—he just fell asleep mid-sentence."
The man flinched as Luke reached into his pocket.
When the Glock pistol Mordo had given him came into view, the robber visibly tensed.
"Now…" Luke aimed the gun at him lazily. "Hand over your cash. Quickly."
If the man had been paralyzed before, that changed instantly
. His survival instincts kicked in, and he fumbled in his pockets, pulling out a wad of crumpled bills and thrusting them toward Luke with trembling hands.
"See? That wasn't so hard." Luke pocketed the money with a grin.
First night in America, and he had already doubled his cash.
Not bad.
The man took a step back, ready to bolt.
"Hold on." Luke leveled the gun at him again. "I've got a question. Ever heard of the Avengers?"
"Of course!" The guy's face lit up, his fear momentarily forgotten.
"The Avengers just saved New York from an alien invasion! It was insane, man!"
His voice was suddenly full of energy. "Do you know how cool that was? Captain America is my favorite!"
"He has been my idol since childhood!"
Speaking of the Avengers and their idols, for a moment, the man even forgot his fear and started talking excitedly.
It wasn't until he saw the cold barrel of the Glock that he snapped back to reality, his face turning pale as he clamped his mouth shut.
'Defeating the aliens not long ago... That means we're after Avengers 1,' Luke thought, piecing together the timeline from the man's words.
But when he heard that the guy's idol was Captain America, Luke couldn't help but roll his eyes.
"Really? Did Captain America teach you to mug people with a knife? Steve Rogers, you're leading people astray!"
He sighed and waved the guy off. "Alright, leave your phone and scram."
The man, eager to get away, tossed his phone to Luke and took off without a second thought.
Luke examined the device—it was a Stark phone model, still pristine, with the protective film barely peeled off.
Clearly, another fine product acquired for "zero dollars."
"Not bad. I guess I won't have to buy one."
—
The next morning, Luke was jolted awake by the sound of a phone ringing.
He groggily reached out, answering without checking the caller ID.
"Hello?"
"Rama, it's Franklin. Have you thought about what I told you last time?"
A deep voice, thick with a street accent, came through the line.
"Pull your head out of your ass! Who the fuck is Rama? Don't ever call me again for this nonsense you fuck, got it?"
Luke snapped and hung up.
A second later, he remembered—the phone wasn't his.
"Right... I 'borrowed' this thing."
The phone itself was fine, but the SIM card inside belonged to someone else.
"Guess I need to get my own number."
Stretching his arms, he thought about his next move.
Getting a SIM card shouldn't be too difficult, especially in a place like this.
Real-name registration?
Pfft. This was America—everything was for sale at the right price.
Luke was finally getting a grasp of the world he had stepped into.
One thing was crystal clear: with enough cash, you could get anything.
"Problem is, I don't have any money..."
He pulled out a crumpled wad of bills from his pocket—just over a thousand dollars.
Not nearly enough to sustain the lifestyle he was currently freeloading.
Even his stay at the luxurious five-star hotel in Hell's Kitchen?
Yeah, that was 'free' too.
"Mordo was right," Luke muttered, slipping the Sling Ring onto his finger. "Teleportation really is the most practical spell."
A sharp alarm blared as soon as he disappeared from the hotel room.
By the time security burst into the presidential suite, all they found was an empty bed and a window swinging slightly in the breeze.
Meanwhile, a few hundred meters away, Luke sat comfortably in a small breakfast café, enjoying hot steamed buns and a cup of soy milk.
He scrolled through the phone, scanning the news. "No reports about Ultron, no mention of Sokovia, and S.H.I.E.L.D. hasn't been disbanded yet…"
It all but confirmed his theory. "This means I'm somewhere between Avengers 1 and Avengers 2."
As he chewed thoughtfully, he saw an article pop up about Stark Tower officially being renamed Avengers Tower.
The city was still buzzing from the Battle of New York, and the Avengers were at their peak popularity.
On every corner of the internet, discussions about Earth's Mightiest Heroes dominated the headlines.
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