Marcus's Coffee Shop Counsel

Time: 8:00 AM, Joe's Coffee Shop, Brooklyn

The morning air carried the scent of fresh bagels and brewing coffee as Alex pushed through the glass door of Joe's Coffee. The familiar bell chimed overhead, but today it sounded different—more urgent, like a warning. His eyes immediately found Marcus in their usual corner booth, the B-rank swordsman's bandaged arm a stark reminder of yesterday's chaos.

"You look like hell," Marcus said without looking up from his steaming mug. His voice carried the weight of someone who'd spent the night wrestling with impossible questions.

Alex slid into the cracked vinyl seat across from him, hands trembling slightly as he wrapped them around the coffee Marcus had already ordered for him. Black, no sugar—just like always. Some things, at least, remained constant in his rapidly shifting world.

"Marcus, I need to ask you something." Alex's voice was barely above a whisper. "Yesterday, when I used your Lightning Slash... how perfect was it? On a scale of one to ten."

Marcus finally looked up, his weathered face grave. "Eleven."

The word hung between them like a blade.

"I've been doing Lightning Slash for eight years, Alex. Eight years of daily practice, of bleeding through training sessions, of refining every microsecond of the technique." Marcus leaned forward, his good hand gripping his mug so tightly his knuckles went white. "What you did yesterday... it wasn't just my technique. It was my technique perfected."

Alex felt the blood drain from his face. Around them, the coffee shop buzzed with morning regulars—construction workers grabbing quick breakfast, students hunched over laptops, elderly couples sharing newspapers. Normal people living normal lives, blissfully unaware that someone sitting ten feet away had just shattered the fundamental laws of their world.

"That's impossible," Alex whispered.

"Yeah, well, so is an F-rank one-shotting a D-rank boss." Marcus's laugh was bitter. "But here we are."

The silence stretched between them until Marcus spoke again, his voice softer now, almost fatherly. "Alex, I need you to understand something. What happened yesterday—if the wrong people find out about it, you won't just be famous. You'll be a target."

"What do you mean?"

Marcus glanced around the coffee shop, then leaned closer. "There are people in this business who would kill for the ability to copy techniques like that. Governments, corporations, criminal organizations—they'd all want to either control you or dissect you. Maybe both."

Alex's coffee suddenly tasted like ash. "And the people I'm meeting today?"

"Silver Moon Guild?" Marcus shrugged. "They're ambitious but not evil. They want to recruit you, probably offer you safety and training in exchange for exclusivity. The government agent..." He paused, considering. "Torres is harder to read. Could be routine, could be something much bigger."

The weight of impending decisions pressed down on Alex like a physical force. "What would you do? If you were me?"

Marcus was quiet for a long moment, staring out the window at the morning rush of people heading to their mundane jobs. "Honestly? I'd be terrified." He turned back to Alex. "But I'd also remember that fear isn't always a bad thing. It keeps you careful. Keeps you alive."

"That's not exactly comforting advice."

"Good advice rarely is." Marcus reached across the table and gripped Alex's shoulder with his uninjured hand. "But here's what I know for certain—whatever this thing is that you can do, whatever made it possible, you're not facing it alone. Iron Wolf isn't exactly Phoenix Guild, but we're loyal. And we protect our own."

Alex felt something tight in his chest loosen slightly. "Even if I'm not officially one of yours?"

"Especially then." Marcus's grin was genuine for the first time that morning. "Besides, someone's got to keep an eye on you. Make sure you don't accidentally revolutionize the entire awakened world before lunch."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching steam rise from their coffee cups. Then Alex's phone buzzed with a message reminder: Silver Moon Guild meeting - 10 AM. Don't be late.

"Time to go face the music," Alex said, standing up.

"Alex." Marcus's voice stopped him at the booth's edge. "Whatever happens today, whatever anyone offers you or threatens you with—remember that you have options. You always have options."

As Alex walked toward the door, Marcus called out one last time: "And Alex? If things go sideways, if you need backup or just someone to talk to—I'm one phone call away. Day or night."

The bell chimed again as Alex stepped back onto the street, but this time it sounded almost hopeful. Almost like a beginning rather than an ending.

Behind him, Marcus pulled out his own phone and sent a quick message to his Iron Wolf teammates: Keep an eye on the news today. And stay ready.