𝒮𝘈𝘕𝘊𝘛𝘖𝘙𝘜𝘔, 𝒫𝘖𝘌𝘔𝘈 𝒟𝘌𝘗𝘌𝘙𝘋𝘐𝘛𝘐.

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       THE ONLY TRUE SOURCE OF KNOWLEDGE IS EXPERIENCE

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     THE ONLY TRUE SOURCE OF KNOWLEDGE IS EXPERIENCE. NOTHING ELSE CAN SUBSTITUTE FOR IT.

     Vico wished he'd known that before he'd made a mess of things. He'd figured with a little research and good intentions, it couldn't be too difficult to bring back some of the heroes lost in the Blip. Get back Sorcerer Strange, give him the Time Stone and he would take care of the rest. Vico would be a hero.

     Unfortunately, he didn't feel too much like a hero right now.

     Something had gone terribly wrong. Vico's arms flew outward to steady himself as the ground beneath him quaked. Violent tremors tossed and hurled trinkets and spellbooks from the tables of Strange's lair, Vico desperately trying to catch as many as he could. He dropped to his knees to save a large glass bottle from shattering like the rest, but out of the corner of his eye he could see something suspicious forming in the window. Orange sparks spiraled in a circular pattern, gradually getting larger and larger until Vico could see through the appearing portal.

     WHAT HE SAW ON THE OTHER SIDE WAS NOT NEW YORK CITY.

     He wasn't sure he even recognized it as any of the places he'd seen on travel blogs or in documentaries. The scenery reminded him more of the magical countrysides from his fantasy video games. Vico abandoned his original task and, barely keeping himself upright as the ground thundered, made a beeline for the front doors. He nearly tumbled down the steps once he made it outside, hands slamming against the concrete to keep from hitting his head. His palms felt raw from scraping against the rough texture, but he had more important things to worry about.

𝒮𝘈𝘕𝘊𝘛𝘖𝘙𝘜𝘔,  apply fic.Where stories live. Discover now