As Stephen Strange walked over, his steps confident and smooth, he extended a hand with a charming smile.
"Hello, Mr. Shawn. To be honest, I didn't expect you to actually come."
His tone carried a note of pleasant surprise, and it was clear that Shawn's arrival wasn't part of his anticipated outcome.
Shawn accepted the handshake with a polite smile. "Thank you for the invitation."
"I'm Harley," she added brightly, stepping forward. "Psychiatry intern, tagalong tonight."
Stephen chuckled. "Nice to meet you."
At Stephen's invitation, the three of them moved to a quieter section of the hall—a small lounge area tucked behind a decorative wall of indoor greenery. The room offered plush sofas, a fireplace display, and privacy from the chatter outside.
Once they were seated, Shawn didn't waste any time.
He leaned back, one arm over the cushion, and asked calmly, "So, Stephen—how do you know me?"
It wasn't an accusation. Just curiosity. But it made Stephen blink for a second. The truth was, Shawn had always kept a low profile. Despite occasionally helping some unsavory individuals in New York—under very private circumstances—he was never one to publicize his work.
Stephen smiled knowingly, then answered with a single name.
"Kingpin."
At that, Shawn's brow lifted slightly.
Ah, so that's it.
Several months ago, he had performed a highly confidential, life-saving operation on Richard Fisk, the son of Wilson Fisk—better known as Kingpin. Richard had been gravely injured in an assassination attempt and was bleeding out. All the best doctors had refused to take the case, knowing that failure might cost them their lives.
Everyone, except Shawn.
He had arrived without fanfare, without fear, and saved Richard's life—earning the respect and favor of one of the most feared men in New York.
Now, it made sense. Stephen must've had dealings with Kingpin himself. That's how the connection had been made.
As if reading his thoughts, Stephen elaborated.
"To be honest, when Richard was brought in, Fisk came to me first," he said, a hint of tension in his voice. "But the moment I saw the boy's condition, I turned him down. There was… no realistic chance of survival. And I knew that if I tried and failed, I wouldn't be walking out of that room alive."
Shawn nodded slowly. That was exactly why he didn't hesitate. He wasn't working for prestige—he had power.
Stephen continued, his gaze fixed on Shawn. "A few days later, I found out Richard survived. Not just stabilized—fully recovered. I couldn't believe it. Fisk told me you did it."
There was genuine awe in his voice now. Even respect.
"But what I really don't understand," Stephen added, leaning in slightly, "is how? I saw the damage myself. No one could have saved him—not with conventional medicine. It was beyond anything I've ever seen."
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "And the most confusing part? You're a psychiatrist."
Harley cleared her throat with a smirk. "He's not just a psychiatrist."
Shawn offered a small smile. "Let's just say I have… an innate ability."
Stephen raised a brow, then chuckled. "Innate ability? You mean you were born with the power to perform miraculous surgery?"
He leaned back in disbelief, laughing softly. "That's a new one."
"I'm serious," Shawn said, his voice calm, almost too calm. "If someone is on the brink of death, as long as they still have breath, I can save them. Whether it's a punctured lung, internal bleeding, even a severed limb—I can make them whole again."
Stephen blinked.
There was no arrogance in Shawn's tone. No boasting. Just fact.
"You don't believe me," Shawn continued. "But you will."
There was a beat of silence. Then, Shawn looked Stephen directly in the eye and added, "Stephen, if you ever get into an accident—if something happens and your hands… don't work anymore—you can come to me."
Stephen raised his eyebrows slightly, caught off guard by how direct that was.
"I'll fix them," Shawn said. "I don't care how shattered or broken they are. If there's life left in them, I can make them function like new."
It was such an unusual thing to say, so specific, that Stephen couldn't help but frown slightly.
"You trying to curse me?" he asked with a half-joking tone.
"Not at all," Shawn said with a faint smile. "Just letting you know where to go when your hands fail."
Stephen let out a short laugh, but it was forced now. He was trying to dismiss the odd tension creeping into the air.
After all, he was Stephen Strange, the best pair of hands in the country. The idea that he, of all people, would suffer such a catastrophic injury was absurd.
Still… something about the way Shawn said it lingered in his mind.
"Thanks for the offer," Stephen said politely. "But I think I'll be fine."
Just then, someone across the room called out, "Stephen! Come here for a moment!"
Stephen looked up and gave them a quick nod. Then he turned back to Shawn.
"I'm sorry. Duty calls. Please enjoy yourselves—and thanks again for coming."
Shawn nodded. "Of course."
With that, Stephen walked off, back into the center of attention.
Leaving just Shawn and Harley behind.
As Stephen's footsteps disappeared into the crowd, Harley turned to Shawn with wide eyes.
"Okay. That was… intense."
Shawn didn't reply.
He was staring into the distance, mind deep in thought.
That conversation had gone about as well as he expected. Stephen was still too proud, too self-assured. He wouldn't accept help unless he hit rock bottom.
Which means… the car crash is inevitable.
Still, the seed was planted.
The moment Stephen's hands failed him, the memory of this conversation would come flooding back. And maybe—just maybe—he'd come to Shawn for healing instead of seeking out Kamar-Taj.
That was all Shawn needed.
To change fate, all it took was the right influence at the right moment.
Harley poked his shoulder.
"You really think something's going to happen to him?"
Shawn glanced at her. "I know it will."
She tilted her head. "Then why warn him?"
"Because if I can help him before he turns to magic, I can rewrite the entire course of history."
Harley didn't fully understand, but she nodded anyway.
She trusted him.
Even if he was playing with the fates of sorcerers and timelines.