Chapter 338

In S. . . . . .'s underground research facility, a man with brown hair and green eyes stepped forward, shook Shiler's hand, and said: "Long time no see, Shiler. Since you left UC Berkeley, we lost all contact. I never expected we'd meet here."

"It's been a long time indeed. After I transferred to Harvard, I thought you'd leave UC Berkeley soon, but you ended up staying so long, Bruce. How have you been?" Shiler smiled and shook hands with Bruce Banner.

Shiler had once taught at UC Berkeley under his Marvel identity, where he and Banner were colleagues. But Shiler left after a very short time, while Bruce Banner remained a professor at UC Berkeley to this day.

"Not bad. But ever since you left, I've had to pay for every therapy session," Banner smiled, adjusting his glasses.

The room held more than just the two of them—Stark stood nearby, but he was absorbed in his own work, and both Shiler and Banner treated him as if he weren't there.

When Shiler stepped aside to let Banner enter the lab, Banner glanced at Stark, rolled his eyes slightly, then turned toward the experiment table.

Shiler walked over to his side, glanced back at Stark, and asked: "You two don't get along?"

"You should ask who *does* get along with Stark. At the last global forum, he went on for three and a half hours, tearing down every existing physical theory…" Banner pushed his glasses up again, not lowering his voice—Stark heard every word.

Stark let out a short, sharp huff, grabbed a stack of documents, and strode out of the lab. Banner frowned, watching his back, and said: "What's wrong with him? In the past, he'd storm over and argue with me for hours."

"People grow up eventually," Shiler shrugged. "Did S. . . . . . bring you here? Who else did they recruit?"

"Only me for now. They'd already contacted Reed Richards, but his third-phase near-Earth study isn't finished—he's still up in orbit. He won't be back for at least another two weeks."

Banner glanced at Shiler and asked: "You're the first one here. Do you know any inside info? S. . . . . .'s moving big—like they're trying to pull every physicist on Earth here…"

"I'm not the first. I'm currently S. . . . . .'s psychological consultant. All I can tell you is this is definitely a major operation. If I'm right, someone's giving a speech right now to the World Security Council…"

"In summary, humanity's non-isolation in the universe has been confirmed. But unfortunately, what awaits us is not friendly Type-III contact, but an alien civilization with technology far beyond human imagination—and their intentions are unknown…"

At the center of the circular seating in the Security Council chamber, Steve stood on the podium. Behind him, a photo taken by Eddie displayed a Kree planetary warship.

Eddie's journalistic skills were impeccable. The image was flawless: in the center and upper portion loomed an incomparably massive planetary warship, glowing faintly against the infinite cosmos; below, the space agents appeared minuscule; on either side, countless escort vessels stretched beyond counting.

Though no one knew how Eddie had managed to capture exactly this moment—the last remaining Kree escort ships filling the frame—the image alone made the fleet look nothing like a defeated, fleeing force that had lost most of its escorts and couldn't even return home. Instead, it resembled a mighty, battle-ready armada poised to invade other civilizations.

Steve glanced back at the image, silently praising Eddie's professionalism, then continued in a steady tone: "This is a civilization whose technological advancement is beyond human comprehension. Next, I will introduce you to the Kree and their planetary warships…"

Nick sat among the audience. As Steve spoke, he watched the council members' faces grow increasingly grim, then pale. Even Pierce, who always maintained perfect composure, now wore an expression of profound gravity—shock nearly written across his face.

As Steve had just said, the World Security Council had long known aliens existed and had some awareness of Asgard. But their imagination of alien civilizations remained limited. For decades, humanity had been isolated, with no concrete sense of how advanced alien technology could become. Now, the evidence lay before them.

How advanced was a civilization capable of transforming a planet the size of Earth into a planetary warship?

Before seeing real evidence, no one could have imagined it. Now they saw it—not just saw it, but learned that this civilization's fleet currently hovered at the edge of the Milky Way.

It was like a video game tutorial: you're given a sword, told to kill a chicken, and informed you've mastered the entire game—now go save the world. The player excitedly steps out… only to face a level-100 ancient god with 180 arms.

Humanity hasn't even left its tutorial village, hasn't finished its training, and the final boss is already waiting at the front door. Even the most composed person would panic.

Steve had read from the script for over two hours. Even he was dry-mouthed and dizzy. He didn't fully understand the technical jargon Stark had summarized—he'd mostly memorized and recited it mechanically, while fielding bizarre questions from the audience. Had he not been professionally trained, he'd have been carried out by now.

As he walked from the podium to the backstage, he wiped sweat from his forehead. He intended to find Nick, but saw Nick talking with a black-haired man in uniform. Steve recognized him: Zheng Xian, director of S. . . . . . Every time Nick attended Security Council meetings, he was always with Zheng Xian.

Steve could guess what they were discussing, so he didn't approach. Instead, he walked alone through the backstage—when Pierce, his temples streaked with gray, blocked his path. He stepped forward, shook Steve's hand, and said: "Long time no see, Captain America. How have you been?"

"Fine. Just busy."

"Really? Busy with alien invasion matters?"

"Not exactly. Director Nick's Superhero Team initiative isn't going well. We've found plenty of candidates, but we still don't have a proper base. I've been running around looking for a place to rent…"

"And logistics are a problem too. If we rely solely on S. . . . . ., Nick will be worrying about next quarter's budget again."

Pierce knew this tone all too well. He gripped Steve's hand tightly. "The Superhero Team initiative? I actually love it. When Nick first proposed it to me, I pledged full support."

"Captain, do you have time later? I've arranged a golf game with several congressmen. Their families are all your fans—they'd be thrilled to meet you in person."

"Oh, don't be like that, Director Pierce. We all rely on these unsung heroes…"

"They'll love talking about this. Nick will be a while longer. Let's go."

Pierce and Steve hurried through the backstage. Nick and Zheng Xian sat at a coffee table by the window. Watching their figures grow distant, Nick lifted his cup and said: "Then it's settled as we discussed. As for the official matters, we'll wait for formal contact."

Zheng Xian raised his cup, clinked it against Nick's, and said: "Agreed. If anything changes during official negotiations, we'll stay in touch…"

He rose and left. Nick pulled out his phone and called Strange: "How are the Sorcerers arranged? How many can you spare? Our scientists are nearly assembled—we can start anytime…"

"Listen, the plan has changed," Strange said, descending the stairs before the Kamar-Taj temple, phone to his ear. "Originally, we planned to send twenty sorcerers to open individual portals. But just now, Wong told me the Grand Sorcerers of Kamar-Taj have developed a large-scale portal…"

"Large-scale portal? How large?"

"So far, if we combine the power of all Kamar-Taj sorcerers with Earth's magical defense system, we can open one roughly the size of the Moon."

"That big?!" Nick exclaimed.

"Yes, I was stunned too. But Kamar-Taj is Earth's magical heartland. The Grand Sorcerers here are scholars of profound knowledge—they're no less capable than human scientists, just focused on magic instead."

Strange sighed. "It all goes back to the Sanctum Sanctorum…"

Kamar-Taj, as an ancient magical sanctuary, had used the same magical techniques for millennia. These methods, refined over generations, were the most practical and stable for controlling magic—and sufficient to protect Earth.

But lately, time had moved too fast. First, the change in the position of Sorcerer Supreme: Ancient One now returned to Kamar-Taj less and less; most duties fell to Strange.

Though they saw potential in Strange, his current magical skill was frankly inadequate. Without Ancient One's protection, the Grand Sorcerers felt increasing unease.

Moreover, as the Sanctum Sanctorum expanded, its clientele grew, its services broadened, and sorcerers were practically rubbing their hands raw opening portals.

Sanctum guardians and Grand Sorcerers had the Eye of Agamotto to help them open portals easily. Other sorcerers struggled. Yet daily demand remained high. Overnight, Kamar-Taj transformed from a sacred sanctuary into a 996 workplace—sorcerers exhausted, panting, worn out.

Demand always drives progress. During the Sanctum's operation, magical portals underwent several generations of upgrades, becoming increasingly energy-efficient and stable.

But individual portals were still inferior to fixed, large-scale ones. So the Grand Sorcerers of Kamar-Taj began working overtime to develop a permanent portal anchored in space.

Sorcerers had always been extremely cautious with their power, for Marvel magic was essentially borrowing—overdraw, and disaster followed.

But the N'al's invasion event caused Ancient One to gift every sorcerer at Kamar-Taj a massive energy feast. Not only did everyone feel full, but surplus energy remained, stored in Kamar-Taj's central hub. The sorcerers used this energy to research improved magic—and the results were extraordinary.

Beyond sufficient power, they also received technological support from demons. Problems with energy efficiency? Call Mephisto. Weak spatial stability? Call Mordo, ask Dormammu. Unstable transit causing lockups? Pull a strand of Crimson Bands and ask Surtur…

While Stark climbed the technological tree, Kamar-Taj was busy unlocking magical skills—and both sides advanced at similar speeds, even developing a quiet rivalry.