Demon King of Time in Marvel

Chapter 2 From Lab Coat to Street Fighter

As Devon strolled towards the city walls, he ran through his mental checklist. He'd cheated death and landed himself smack-dab in what had to be ancient times. From quantum physics to… well, sticks and stones. Talk about a downgrade. He needed a plan, stat. Step one: find a place to crash. Step two: gather intel. And step three, arguably the most pressing: find some food. His stomach was currently staging a full-blown protest.

The city gates loomed ahead, looking more like a castle entrance than anything else. Vendors lined the approach, their stalls overflowing with fruits, veggies, and the works. He even saw some selling farm tools and rough-looking clothes. People were trading with coins – the universal language of commerce, even across time, apparently.

At the gates, some seriously armored guards stopped him, rattling off something in the local gibberish. Language barrier, round two. He threw his hands up in a "don't shoot" gesture, then started miming deafness. No point in picking a fight with the local law enforcement. That'd just earn him a one-way ticket to the city dungeon.

The guards exchanged confused glances. One of them waved him to the side. Another guy walked up, paid the guards a few coins, and got waved through. Ah, a toll. Makes a strange sense. Why have this grand entrance without a cover charge? Devon fished around in the pouch he'd… 'borrowed' from the tribesman and handed over a similar amount. The guard gave his spear a once-over – a look that basically screamed, "That's cute" – before letting him pass. Guess my toothpick isn't considered a weapon of mass destruction. Good to know.

Inside, the city square was bustling. Merchants yelled about their wares, carts rattled across the cobblestones, and the air was thick with a million conversations he couldn't decipher. Linguist's worst nightmare. And mine, for obvious reasons. He'd love to find an inn, but with his communication skills currently limited to charades, that was a no-go. He had decided on a more direct approach.

[Stasis]

He'd decided to call his time-stopping ability "Stasis." "Za Warudo" sounded cool, but since he was frozen too, it felt a bit pretentious.

He noticed a kid, maybe ten years old, zipping through the crowd, his fingers suspiciously close to people's wallets. A mini-pickpocket. Gotta admire the hustle. So where are your friends? Devon decided to tail him.

You might ask why tail him? This is a simple answer since the 'honest' way of getting an inn was closed. He might as well learn from the experts. Clearly the kid would be working for someone and being a robin hood was always one of his dreams except the poor chap here was himself. It would be even easier with his powers: he can make quick work of them, get a place to stay and then also get food not to mention the monetary gain.

He couldn't help but wonder, as he followed the boy, was he always this morally gray. I never liked following rules because they are made by the strong to keep the weak in check. But being here, fighting for my survival I can't help but notice, this is my true nature. I like to be the strong. To not have my fate decided by anyone but me and so I fight and do everything in my powers.

After a long and boring chase, the kid finally left the main square as evening rolled around. Devon followed, trying his best impression of a shadowy ninja. The kid met up with a shady-looking dude in a dark alley, and after a quick chat, they headed towards the edge of town, disappearing into a beat-up house on the outskirts.

Devon hung back, his stomach rumbling loudly. He saw smoke rising from the chimney. Bingo. Dinner time. And I'm starving.

He crept towards the house, clutching his spear. A lone guard stood watch, a rusty dagger poking out from his belt. The guy spotted Devon and yelled something, going for his knife.

Devon wasn't in the mood for a long conversation. He faked a lunge to the left, then dove to the right, scooping up a handful of dirt and pebbles. He chucked them at the side of the house, making a racket. While the guard was distracted, Devon tackled him, sending them both sprawling. The guard scrambled up, slashing at Devon with his dagger, nicking his arm. Ow. Note to self: avoid pointy things.

[Stasis]

Devon's time stopping ability, ten seconds max before a killer headache kicked in. Temporal brain freeze. Not conductive for tactical maneuvers but useful for a quick breather.

The guard's face was priceless. Devon couldn't move, but he took a mental snapshot of the guy's position, his grip on the dagger, everything.

[Rewind]

Back to square one. This time, as he tackled the guard, he made sure to pin the guy's knife hand. A quick headbutt later, and the guard was out cold. Devon dragged him inside.

Inside, two more guys were hollering, daggers drawn. Three kids huddled by a small fire, looking terrified. Definitely not a welcoming committee. Devon grabbed his spear. Deep breath. Focus. He hurled the spear at the nearest guy. Total miss.

[Rewind]

Back outside again. He grabbed his spear, adjusted his grip, and threw. Still missed, but not by as much.

[Rewind]

He saw the throw again, the spear sailing wide. Adjusted his grip. He threw again. This time, it hit, right in the shoulder. The guard yelled. Each time, he got a little better. Finally, after a few tries, the spear connected, hitting the guy in the shoulder. Not a kill shot, but enough to slow him down.

Devon charged into the house. The fight was quick and messy. He used his stasis power in short bursts, creating openings, disarming the goons, trying to keep the kids out of the crossfire. He was bruised, bleeding, and his head was throbbing, but he managed to tie up the men with some rope he found lying around.

The kids stared at him, wide-eyed. The oldest, a girl, maybe twelve, stood in front of the younger two, like a tiny, brave bodyguard. Devon grabbed a pot from the fire and dished out four servings of stew – one for each of the kids, and one for himself. It was clearly meant for four, and those guys probably weren't planning on sharing. He shoved the bowls towards the kids.

He took a bite of the stew. Bland. Needs some serious seasoning. Gotta find the ancient equivalent of a spice rack. He knew what it was like to be in the kids' shoes. Survival's a dirty game. He couldn't fix everything, but he could at least make sure they had a decent meal.

The girl took a tentative bite, then nodded to the others. They dug in, clearly starving. Devon ate slowly, thinking about his next move. The language barrier meant finding a normal job was out. Guess I'll have to get creative. Maybe I'll find someone to stea… borrow some wealth. Robbing a robber is just good financial planning, ok.

After dinner, Devon found some rags and made makeshift beds for the kids in one corner, claiming the opposite corner for himself. Any lethal injury and rewind will act by itself. He wasn't worried about them or the tied-up goons.

As Devon lay on his makeshift bed, his mind raced. He needed to assess the situation objectively. He was stranded in an unknown time and place, with limited resources and a language barrier. Returning to his own time was a complex problem with no readily apparent solution. He had no one waiting for him back home. He'd been a solitary figure, his life revolving around his work. I might miss the occasional internet access, though. And the washrooms were so reliable. Truly, we only miss something when it is gone.

He had a new life now, a blank canvas. He could use his scientific knowledge, his analytical mind, to navigate this new world. Perhaps I'll invent the printing press a few centuries early. Or maybe just focus on perfecting the spork. That's a truly underappreciated invention. He closed his eyes, a faint smile playing on his lips.Might as well make the most of it. First order of business: figure out a way to earn money. And then learn their language. Then, maybe, find a way to get back to my time. Or at least a decent meal with actual spices.

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"Devon's Online Search History (If He Had Internet)"

* "How to build a time machine with ancient technology"

* "Best spices to use in ancient times"

* "How to go to the bathroom if you were in ancient times."

* "Is it ethical to use your knowledge of the future to get rich in the past?"

* "Why does my head hurt when I rewind time too much?"

* "Craigslist: Time Traveler seeking roommate"

* "How to know which time period I am in?"

* "How common is getting powers after a life threatening experience?"

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