Marvel 1919 : Rise of an Empire

Private clubs originated in 17th century Europe, gradually evolving from aristocratic salons into premier entertainment venues for high society. These included veteran clubs, Navy, Army, Air Force, and Police clubs, as well as cigar lounges and other exclusive organizations.

The most exclusive clubs served small circles for social networking, making entry requirements extremely high. You typically needed a referral from an acquaintance or a personal invitation. Otherwise, entry was impossible.

Through this club format, with stringent admission standards, industry elites gathered together.

Golf clubs, yacht clubs, and global clubs all require exceptionally high admission criteria. As the fashion capital, New York naturally boasts no shortage of such private venues.

"Sir, we have arrived," the driver announced.

The black sedan slowed to a stop at 666 Fifth Avenue in New York. Fifth Avenue cuts through the heart of Manhattan, where men in suits and women in fashionable attire, each carrying briefcases, enter and exit tall buildings. They paint an elegant picture of modern American life.

This location wasn't far from the first villa George had purchased. However, his destination tonight was the "Cigar Club," located right here.

At the entrance, he presented his membership card. Though the bodyguard recognized him immediately, he followed standard protocol and verified the card before stepping aside.

George entered through the main door and noticed a large restaurant to the left and a small reception room to the right. He ascended the stairs to the second floor corridor, walking on a handmade carpet until he reached a thick door.

Although George owned the club from behind the scenes, he rarely visited. A private room was always reserved for him.

As he stepped inside, he found a study style reception room. Bookshelves lined the walls and a faint scent of ink filled the air. In the center of the room sat a set of plush sofas, where Phillips and Howard Stark awaited his arrival.

Both men stood up from the sofa when George entered. This wasn't just out of courtesy, but because something important was about to begin.

"Good evening, General Phillips, Mr. Howard!" George greeted.

"Good evening, Mr. George," they replied in unison.

"We're old friends, so just call me George," he said. "Howard, I'm surprised to see you here without any beautiful women around."

"I heard this was where real men light real cigars. Figured I'd test the legend myself," Howard replied with a sly smile.

"I assure you, I know how to treat my guests," George chuckled. He opened a cigar humidor he had brought and offered one to each of them.

"Indeed, you certainly know how to enjoy yourself. I haven't seen these cigars sold anywhere else," Phillips remarked with a laugh.

"I grew a few myself; it's no big deal," George said with a subtle smile.

"Now, let's get back to business," Phillips said. "We called you here tonight to invite you to join the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division."

"That name's quite a mouthful," George replied with a raised brow.

"We're considering a simplification. The Strategic Scientific Reserve has disbanded, but Howard Stark, Peggy, and I plan to re-establish this department. Its purpose is to combat organizations like HYDRA," Phillips explained.

"During World War II, we confiscated some HYDRA items. Through our research on these, we discovered Earth isn't the only home to advanced life forms in the universe. There may be individuals or groups who've acquired alien tech. So the goal is to identify and contain that technology," Howard Stark added.

"So what's in it for me? With General Phillips's military record and your brain and bank account, Howard, you don't really need me, do you?" George asked.

Phillips and Howard exchanged glances. Phillips finally answered, "We also invited Peggy Carter. She was the one who insisted we bring you in. More importantly, we need your company's research capabilities. Howard can't do this alone. Plus, since the organization is private, your connections could help us secure some of HYDRA's war spoils."

The room went quiet.

After a pause, George spoke. "And what's in it for me?"

"You'll gain access to whatever tech we develop. Our companies will share the results," Howard offered.

"Okayyy, so what's the setup?" George asked.

"We want the three of us as Council members. You'll handle operations, the General will oversee the organization as Director, and I'll head research and development," Howard explained.

George gave a slow nod. "Fine by me. Just make sure Carter reports to me. I prefer to keep things manageable."

"Of course. No problem."

Soon after, they formally established the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division, with its base in Washington. George already anticipated that the U.S. government would soon seize control.

Given Phillips's position, there was no way the government would let a spy agency operate independently. All three of them knew this. It just wasn't said out loud.

Sure enough, within two months, George was called to the White House to meet President Truman. The organization was officially absorbed by the U.S. government.

Because of George's status, he kept his Council seat but was assigned a deputy. Carter moved to lead the New York branch, while Phillips and Howard stayed in place, with assistants now reporting under them.

George didn't object. He passed off all duties to the White House appointed deputy. From that day on, George never set foot in SHIELD's Washington HQ again.

All George wanted was a title. An official reason to get involved when needed. He had no interest in the day to day grind.

Still, he used the opportunity to form a special team, buried deep under layers of bureaucracy. It was legal, fully registered, but classified so heavily that not even top brass could track it. It didn't take much. Just a whisper here, a nudge there. No illusions needed.

Since George held a Council position, SHIELD regularly arranged for updates on agency activities to be delivered to him.

George came across two significant programs: "Project Paperclip" and "Project Pegasus." The latter, named after the mythological winged horse, was a collaborative effort between SHIELD, NASA, and the U.S. Air Force.

Its primary objective was to harness the Tesseract's power to develop alternative energy sources and light speed engines. The inspiration came from Valkyrie aircraft previously captured from HYDRA.

However, George noticed that Pegasus was stagnating. Reports pointed to a frustrating bottleneck: the scientists recruited under Project Paperclip, many of whom were former HYDRA, had become increasingly uncooperative.

In the early stages, these personnel, including Dr. Zola, had contributed significantly to missile and weapons research. But as time went on, their input diminished, and key projects ground to a halt. George suspected their loyalty had never truly shifted. These scientists were simply biding their time.

To counterbalance this, George began placing trusted agents within SHIELD itself. At the same time, Dr. Erskine made headway on replicating the legendary Infinity Formula.

George held a test tube and activated his time reversal ability, allowing him to observe the entire preparation process in reverse. From mixture to base compound.

The formula worked similarly to the one in George's memory: it extended a user's lifespan to roughly 200 years while preserving youth and physical vitality. Previously, inconsistent use of such formulas led to rapid aging, but with insights drawn from analyzing Jia Ying's blood, this defect had been eliminated.

Dr. Erskine also synthesized a variant: one that didn't extend lifespan but preserved external youth and energy. George viewed it as a cosmetic or lifestyle grade product. A diluted version of the core elixir.

He made two clear distinctions in deployment. The true life extension potion was kept strictly internal, administered to select super soldiers at regular intervals. The second, dubbed the Youth Potion, was divided into high, medium, and low grades.

Once packaged, George gave Jia Ying exclusive rights to sell it commercially as a health product.

George had no illusions. He knew the potion would sell itself. The lure of youth, across cultures and classes, was irresistible.

Still, he kept the original formula from his wives. Not out of mistrust or lack of love, but because it fell short of what he believed they truly deserved.

In George's mind, nothing short of the absolute best was acceptable for Alice and Yui. No compromise, no shortcuts. For them, only the impossible was ever going to be enough.

He had even considered creating a Philosopher's Stone. A true fusion of myth and magic like the one wielded by Nicolas Flamel in the Harry Potter universe, further enhanced with scientific elements from the Infinity Formula. Yet even that idea felt incomplete.

In George's mind, immortality wasn't just about prolonging life; it was about transcending death entirely. If this universe allowed for cultivation and soul bound spells, then he would explore those routes until perfection was achieved.

After a quiet moment of reflection, George reclined in his chair and browsed through the network of worlds available to him. He could have chosen any worlds filled with glory, conflict, technological marvels, or magical intrigue. But none seemed right.

They all felt too predictable, too constrained by their own rules. He didn't want another stage for conflict; he wanted mystery, evolution, and freedom.

His fingers hovered for a while over a list of lesser known realities. Then, almost on a whim, he selected one: The Sorcerer's Apprentice. With a deep breath, he initiated the jump.

World: The Sorcerer's Apprentice

In the year 2000, George stood in New York, skimming a newspaper that confirmed his arrival time. This was the world of The Sorcerer's Apprentice.

This universe's magical history dates back to the 700s AD, when Merlin and his disciples, Balthazar, Veronica, and Horvath, fought to seal the dark sorceress Morgana Le Fay. Veronica absorbed Morgana's soul and was sealed inside a doll by Balthazar.

Before Merlin's death, he passed on a dragon ring to Balthazar with a mission: find his successor, and ensure Morgana's destruction.

Centuries passed. Eventually, in New York, Balthazar met a fourth grade boy named Dave, who stumbled into a magic shop and was chosen by the ring. Dave accidentally freed Horvath during the encounter, leading his peers to think he was mentally unstable.

A decade later, Dave would be forced to confront destiny and face Morgana in battle.

George recalled the plot clearly and knew that this world's magic operated under a unique framework. Here, immortality could be achieved through spiritual cultivation or spellcraft.

He wasn't interested in waiting ten years for the main story to begin.

He remembered Balthazar's magic shop as a moss green building in Brooklyn, facing the Statue of Liberty. First, George positioned himself across the water from the statue, then focused his senses. The moment he located the building, he teleported nearby.

As he approached the doorway, a student pushed past him. George glanced at the backpack: the name tag read Dave.

He was right on time.

Inside the shop, dazzling relics lined the shelves, though their disarray and the thick dust hinted at long neglect. George could tell that the Sorcerer had no intention of maintaining the place.

Just then, "Clang, clang, clang!" Dave accidentally knocked over an antique, whether real or fake, onto the floor. He had stumbled while glancing around, his elbow catching a precariously perched item.

Fortunately, Balthazar appeared just in time to save a large urn from shattering.

"The second emperor of the Han Dynasty confined his least favorite concubine in this urn for ten years. Legend has it that anyone who opens it will also be confined for ten years," Balthazar recounted dramatically.

He pretended to be horrified as he tried to scare Dave. He glanced at George, who had just entered the shop.

"Sorry, I'm just looking for a note. Did you see it? The wind blew it into your shop," Dave explained nervously.

"A note?" Balthazar replied, placing the large urn back in its spot.

"It blew into your shop. It's just a coincidence," Dave insisted.

"Just a coincidence," Dave said again, more insistently.

"Coincidence?" Balthazar echoed, briefly pondering something.

"Hello, sir, over there. I have something to attend to now, so the shop is temporarily closed. You may leave, thank you," Balthazar said, directing his attention back to George.

George gave a patient nod before responding, but before he could speak, Balthazar turned to Dave and said, "I have something I want to show you, Dave." He then walked over to the counter.

Dave blinked. "Wait... how do you know my name?"

"Because I can read minds," Balthazar replied with a theatrical flair. After a long period without social interaction, he seemed a bit eccentric, proclaiming this loudly, which startled Dave.

"It's written on your backpack," George interjected calmly.

"Sir, I believe I already asked you to leave," Balthazar said, glaring at George.

"Mr. Balthazar, I came specifically to find you. I've been tracking your presence for some time, so I can wait until you've finished speaking with the Supreme Merlin," George replied with a smile.

"Who are you?" Balthazar asked, furrowing his brow.

"George, a Sorcerer. We can discuss this later. I imagine the successor to the Supreme Merlin is in a hurry right now, so you two can continue," George explained.

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