After leaving the New York Sanctum, Rowan didn't hesitate. He raised a hand and cast a tracking spell.
"Stephen Strange."
The answer came instantly.
Rowan followed the pull through the city, stopping outside a hospital roughly twenty blocks from the Sanctum. It was just after eight in the evening. Across the street, Stephen Strange stepped out of the building, coat slung over one arm. He didn't get into his car right away. He was waiting.
Rowan watched for a moment, then flicked his fingers.
A speeding car swerved violently, its tires screaming as it jumped the curb and barreled straight toward Strange.
"Oh God—!"
Strange froze.
At the last instant, a hand seized his shoulder and yanked him clear. The car missed him by inches before tearing down the street and disappearing into traffic.
"Careful, Doctor Strange," Rowan said calmly.
Strange's heart hammered as he stared after the car, swore under his breath, then turned back with a shaky laugh.
"Drunk driver," he snapped. "People like that shouldn't be allowed anywhere near a steering wheel. Thank you. Seriously. If you hadn't pulled me out of the way, I'd be waking up in my own operating room."
"It would be a loss to medicine," Rowan replied lightly. "Someone like you doesn't come along often."
Strange brightened immediately. He offered his hand.
"Stephen Strange. Neurosurgery. I don't know why, but you feel… familiar. Have we met?"
"Rowan," he said, shaking his hand. "I was treated here once. Everyone said you were the best surgeon in the building."
The familiarity made sense. Strange's memories had been altered before. Some impressions never vanished completely.
"Stephen!"
A woman stepped out of the hospital and waved. She was beautiful, confident, and smiling as she approached.
"Your girlfriend?" Rowan asked, feigning curiosity.
Strange nodded, pride obvious on his face. "My fiancée. Christine Palmer."
"Congratulations," Rowan said sincerely.
That confirmed it.
In the familiar timeline, their relationship had never reached this point. Later, Strange's life would fracture under the weight of magic and obsession, and Christine would move on without him. This was different.
Strange glanced at Christine, then back at Rowan. "We're heading out to eat. Join us. My treat. You saved my life."
"Another time," Rowan said with a polite smile. "I've got somewhere to be."
He turned and walked away.
As he disappeared into the night, a quiet thought settled in his mind.
If this really is that universe… then I'm sorry, Doctor Strange.
He wasn't planning to kill Stephen. That was never an option. Even the Ancient One wouldn't allow it. The solution lay elsewhere.
Before 2016 arrived, before Christine's fatal accident, Stephen Strange would need to lose his hands instead.
Just like in another world.
The destination would change. The path would realign. The outcome might finally break free.
Far from New York, beneath a desert sky, a jet marked with Hydra's insignia descended toward the sand.
The hatch opened, and Baron Zemo stepped out, flanked by Hydra soldiers in powered armor.
"Consider this repayment," Zemo said calmly. "For your father. What comes next is up to you."
Beside him, a cloaked woman pulled back her hood, revealing crimson skin stretched tight over sharp, skeletal features.
"Zola and Pierce thought they could rule without me," she said coldly. "They forgot who truly carries my father's blood. Once I recover what he left behind, Hydra will rise again under the right hand."
Her name was Sin.
Red Skull's daughter.
Zemo studied her for a moment. "I warned them Project Insight was a mistake. Too visible. Too arrogant. But those mutants who destroyed it aren't enemies you rush headlong into."
Even Hydra knew patience.
Sin's lips curled. "Do I look that foolish?"
She turned toward a stretch of desert marked on an old map.
"According to my father's records, it's beneath us."
Excavation began immediately. Hours later, a buried structure emerged from the sand. A bunker sealed for nearly seventy years.
They forced their way inside, tearing through outdated defenses until they reached the lowest chamber. There, on a stone pedestal, lay a thick book bound in faded blue.
Sin lifted it with trembling hands and flipped through the pages.
A grin spread across her skull-like face.
Her father had chased myths. He'd found the Tesseract. He'd uncovered relics that fell from the sky.
And this book recorded the location of one more.
A hammer no one could lift.