A bewildered frown creased Tony Stark's brow, a sentiment mirrored by Scott Lang, who currently occupied Tony's shoulder in miniature form.
"Wait, he's an Avenger?" Scott jabbed a thumb towards John Wick, his voice laced with incredulity. "How come I've never seen this guy before?"
Tony could only offer a mute mental agreement. You and me both, buddy, he thought, equally perplexed by the stoic figure before them.
John met the eyes of this unfamiliar Tony, a flicker of understanding dawning in his own. The lack of recognition in the other man's gaze was telling.
"You… you don't know me, do you?" John's voice was quiet, his stare intense. "Our timelines… they aren't the same."
Truthfully, John had been more curious than startled by this future Tony's sudden appearance. After all, the concept of journeying to the past wasn't entirely foreign to him. In the world of Magic he knew, devices like the Time Turner existed, tools one might encounter even during their third year at Hogwarts. He'd witnessed their use before.
But this Tony's baffled expression confirmed this was more than a simple jaunt back along one's own history. The stark disconnect, the utter lack of shared experience, pointed to something far grander, far more complex.
The Multiverse, John concluded. This wasn't merely Tony Stark from his future; this was a Tony Stark from an entirely different strand of reality.
A wizard's understanding of temporal mechanics often surpassed conventional science. Grasping the implications, John let out a soft sigh. "It appears there's been a… deviation in our expected rendezvous." He eyed the displaced inventor. "So, time traveler, what brings you to my little corner of existence?"
The future Tony, meanwhile, was rapidly processing the likelihood that his Pym particle-powered jaunt had gone significantly sideways. His expression turned grave. "Look, I don't know who youexactly are ," he admitted, gesturing vaguely, "but judging by your… calm reaction, I'm guessing we're acquainted in this timeline." He took a breath. "Yes, I'm Tony Stark. From the future. And as much as I'd love to give you the full PowerPoint presentation, we're critically short on time."
His gaze flickered towards the main hall where the Avengers were securing a defeated Loki. The cleanup was already underway. This John, whoever he was, had seen through his temporal displacement with unnerving ease. Clearly, he was no ordinary bystander.
Tony's mind, ever the rapid-fire processor, raced. "We're not here to cause trouble," he stated, aiming for sincerity. "No ill intentions, I swear."
"I can trust you," John replied, his immediate accord so unexpected it nearly made Tony stumble.
From Tony's shoulder, Scott Lang exclaimed in disbelief, "Wait, just like that? You believe him? This is our first time meeting!"
John stroked his chin, a thoughtful glint in his eyes. "Let me venture a guess," he said, his tone surprisingly serious. "You're going to deal with a… Purple Sweet Potato?"
"Purple Sweet Potato…?" Tony blinked, then an image of Thanos's violet, ridged visage flashed in his mind. He couldn't suppress a wry smirk; the description was alarmingly apt. "Is that why you're willing to trust us?"
Whatever the reason, securing an ally, however enigmatic, was a definite win.
Tony inhaled deeply, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial hush. "Listen, we need your discretion. We need you to keep this a secret, complete the time heist, and take the gem at this point in time."
"It sounds like we're stealing the gem, but that's not the case..." Tony began, intending to elaborate on the nuances of their mission, but John cut him off, his understanding clearly more profound than anticipated.
"The past cannot be changed," John stated, his gaze steady. "Time travel doesn't change the past; it fills in the past." He analyzed calmly, "Since you are appearing here, it means there is a common connection between us, and you want to change the past, which cannot be done in a spacetime that has already occurred."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "So your appearance here is not accidental; it is creating a new timeline." In other words, their journey here was to fulfill events within this present, unfolding reality.
Both Tony and Scott were momentarily stunned into silence. It was Scott who finally stammered, "Uh, excuse me? You… you actually get all this?" He couldn't help but recall his own fumbling attempts to explain temporal mechanics to this very Tony back in his own time. Now, this stranger had laid it out with chilling precision.
"I am a Wizard," John replied with an air of quiet authority. "What you are doing is not uncommon in Magic, or rather, I have experienced quite a bit." Wizards, in matters of time, were often leagues ahead of mere technology.
"What you need to do in this timeline, I will not interfere," John stated casually, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "I am curious about what the 'me' in another spacetime is doing?"
He found the lack of overlap unsettling. A subtle probe with the Mind-Reading Spell into Tony's surface thoughts moments earlier had revealed no trace of himself, no mention of a John Wick in the history this Stark knew. It wasn't just a divergent path; it was as if he didn't exist in their narrative at all.
John knew he'd made waves in his own world; to be entirely absent from another, especially one where a cataclysm like Thanos loomed, was perplexing. Surely, he wouldn't have simply stood aside. Unless… Thanos's indiscriminate, universe-halving snap… Could he have been among the vanished? Thinking this, John felt a little creeped out. Was the Mad Titan truly that terrifying?
"John." The voice of this timeline's Tony Stark's voice cut through as he strode closer, eyeing the trio. "What are you doing there?" He didn't think his penthouse held anything John would covet.
John cast a brief, dismissive glance at the future Tony's silently pleading expression. To his own Stark, he said with a perfectly straight face, "I'm calling your arch-nemesis."
The present Tony's jaw tightened, a muscle twitching. Right, he thought, because my feelings are entirely irrelevant to you, aren't they? He was trying, truly trying, to move past the recent unpleasantness with Ivan, but John seemed determined to pick at the scab.
With a flick of his wrist, John sent the miniature Scott arcing back onto Future Tony's shoulder. "Go do your thing," he said, a dismissive wave accompanying his words. "But first, let's be clear." His gaze, sharp and unwavering, fixed on the Scepter currently held by one of the Avengers. "That thing is mine."
Future Tony stiffened. "Huh?" Even knowing this wasn't his native reality, John's brazen claim to the Mind Stone-bearing artifact caught him completely off guard. His mind reeled. The Scepter was pivotal; it was the key to Ultron, to Vision. If John simply claimed it here, now, would those crucial developments in his own past—his future—be erased?
Before Tony could voice his protest, John offered a chillingly serene smile. "I know you want to take it, but I can make it so you can't take it." He leaned in slightly. "This is a trade, Stark. Trading that thing for me not interfering is a very worthwhile deal."
Future Tony's expression shifted through a myriad of calculations. The Mind Scepter was too important. Yet, John, as an unknown and powerful variable, could easily sabotage their entire mission if he chose to interfere. And if John's theory about this being a new universe held true, perhaps this transaction was a necessary, pre-ordained step in its birth. As his counterpart from this timeline called out to John again, impatience coloring his tone, Future Tony made his decision.
"Alright, alright, I agree." We'll return the gem after we're done with it, he rationalized. And giving it to another Avenger… how bad could that be?
A satisfied smile touched John's lips. He extended a hand. "Then it's a deal."
Reluctantly, Future Tony clasped it. The instant their palms met, intricate patterns of glowing lines and circles blazed into existence on the backs of both their hands before fading, leaving a faint, tingling warmth.
"What is this?" Tony snatched his hand back, startled. Was he tricked?
John's smile widened, unperturbed. "Don't worry. It's just a contract, an added insurance." His eyes glinted with a knowing light. "We are making an equivalent exchange, so naturally, we need some transcendental witnesses."
A distinct feeling of having wandered into a wolf's den settled over Future Tony.
From his shoulder, Scott's tiny voice mumbled, "I don't think trading with this guy is a good thing."
"Coincidentally, I have the same thought," Future Tony muttered back, utterly clueless about the true nature of the 'contract' he'd just sealed.
John, his part in the exchange apparently concluded, turned and strode from the secluded corner. Future Tony's attention snapped to his present-day counterpart, who was now carefully placing the Cosmic Cube into a containment briefcase. Seizing the moment, he immediately flicked the ant-sized Scott towards his target. The miniature hero zipped off, unnoticed by the preoccupied Stark of this era, who remained oblivious to the stowaway he'd briefly hosted.
"Who should I give the magic wand to?" Natasha Romanoff asked, holding Loki's Scepter aloft as she addressed Steve Rogers.
Before anyone could answer, John Wick stepped forward and, with an air of absolute entitlement, smoothly relieved her of the artifact.
Steve's brow furrowed. "The S.H.I.E.L.D. Strike Team will come to take custody of this scepter, John." He added firmly, "This thing needs to be handled properly."
John met Steve's gaze, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I think as a Wizard, I have more say in this kind of thing than you."
As if on cue, the elevator doors slid open, revealing a stern-faced agent with a shaved head, flanked by several S.H.I.E.L.D. STRIKE operatives in full tactical gear.
"Sorry, Mr. Wick," the lead agent stated, his voice firm, "we are here to take custody of this item." His team fanned out, their movements practiced and precise, hands already hovering near sidearms. The air in the penthouse thickened with sudden, unspoken tension.
Natasha stepped forward, attempting to de-escalate. "S.H.I.E.L.D. needs to confirm the safety of this weapon." She looked at John and slowly approached.
John, Scepter held loosely in one hand, cast a sweeping glance from Natasha to the armed agents, then back to the assembled Avengers. "I thought this thing could be considered my spoils of war," he finally looked at the others. "What do you think?"
Steve hesitated. "Sorry, John, this is evidence. I think it's better to hand it over to S.H.I.E.L.D."
***********
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