Marvel: The Social Link System

A seemingly ordinary young man sat in the middle of a rather modest-looking room. The young man doesn't have any proper clothing; his body is simply wrapped in two white sheets, covering only his chest and crotch. His black hair is messy, with some dirt seemingly stuck to it as if he had just awoken from his grave. Yet he isn't worried about his appearance at all, as his amber eyes were stuck staring at what was in front of him. A menacing yet comforting music was playing in the background on loop, as if enticing the young man to act in an unusual way.

In front of the young man, there was also another, more mature man sitting behind a desk. The mature man had long dark brown hair tied up in a ponytail, tanned skin, and was shown to be wearing a half-missing mask with the image of a violet butterfly wing on the right of said mask; and his eye holes do not show his pupils. The mature man was also wearing a black shirt and a tie, a white blazer, and white pants with black dress shoes.

The young man was simply curious about this well-dressed man, with a trace of fear in his eyes. He knew this wasn't supposed to happen. His best friend had just shot him in the head while he was at school. He was the first victim of a school shooting.

He tried to persuade his friend to stop his plan, yet he failed. His friend wasn't bullied; he didn't have any hatred or anger towards the school; he simply wanted attention. The boy planned this by himself; the young man simply discovered it too late, and so, as the consequence of the young man's failure, Death greeted him coldly.

"Surprised?" questioned the mature man with a warm chuckle.

The young man could feel his sweat dripping from the side of his cheek, yet he could see the moisture of his breath as he could feel that his fingers were numb because of the cold. It took some courage to finally say something to the well-dressed man.

"Who... are you?" the young man inquired.

The well-dressed man simply put his hands on the table, and looked at the young man directly in the eye. "I am Philemon, a simple dweller in the rift between consciousness and unconsciousness of all souls."

"...What?"

The well-dressed man, Philemon, chuckled once again. "Do not worry; it is understandable that you do not know anything."

The room went quiet again as Philemon turned back to stare at him again, his pupil-less eyes seemingly anticipating another question.

The young man was perplexed; he quickly thought of another question but couldn't say it. It wasn't as if he didn't have any questions; he had too many to ask.

Seeing that the young man didn't proceed with another question, Philemon leaned against his chair as the fingers of his hands touched one another.

"Let's do a reading on you," said Philemon suddenly, which made the young man confused.

"A reading?" questioned the young man. "What kind of reading?"

"I believe you are familiar with tarot cards," said Philemon as he suddenly grabbed a deck of blue cards from nowhere.

"I am aware of it, yes," said the young man hesitantly.

Philemon nodded his head as he spread the deck of cards, which contained 22 cards in total. The cards were placed separately on the table, with their contents hidden from the young man's eyes. Philemon then looked at the young man and asked him a simple question.

"First, what is your name?" said Philemon.

"My name?" The young man inquired once more. "You summoned me here without knowing my name?"

Philemon simply smiled, indicating to the young man that he does not wish to respond.

The young man just narrowed his eyes as he tried to think of his name. He thought long and hard, yet he simply couldn't remember.

"I... don't know..." muttered the young man, clearly surprised that he couldn't recall his own name. "For some reason, I can't remember..."

"It doesn't matter." Philemon gave the young man a friendly smile. "You'll become familiar with your new name soon."

"New name?"

Philemon ignored his inquiry. The well-dressed man merely leaned back against his chair, and the young man could feel his chair approaching the table. The young man was sitting precisely in front of the table, facing the 22 cards that had been placed on it, in the blink of an eye.

"Please choose one," Philemon stated gently.

The young man simply took a deep breath as he looked at the cards that were offered in front of him. He thought quite hard about what to pick, yet he felt like it didn't matter at all what he picked, that the result would be the same either way.

The young man just released another moist breath as he pointed at a card in the middle of the desk. When his index finger touched the card, a blue sparkle appeared around it.

The card instantly floated from the desk, causing the young man to flinch back into his seat. The card that he chose continued to emit a faint blue sparkle, before turning towards him.

The young man saw that there was a depiction of a clown on the card, with the number "0" attached above the said depiction.

"The Fool," said Philemon. "It is the state that you are in right now. It symbolizes beginnings, innocence, and a free spirit. At some point, every human being is attached to The Fool."

Philemon seemed to be thinking. He looked over the remaining unpicked cards and shuffled them again without touching them.

The cards moved erratically on the table, and the young man's eyes couldn't keep up, so he gave up.

"Please," Philemon said as the cards came to a halt. "Choose another."

The young man obeyed Philemon's order. His finger pointed to another card, which drifted away from the table, glistening with blue lights.

The card was returned to the young man, exposing a card portraying a naked woman clutching two batons as she stared behind her. The roman numeral "XXI" was written on the card.

"The World," Philemon said. "It represents achievement, integration, and completion. However, in your situation, it can be read literally; it represents world travel."

"World travel?" the young man inquired once more.

"You'll find out soon," Philemon replied, smiling. He then closed his eyes and glanced at the cards. "You may select one more card. Unlike the other two, you can see what's within."

The cards were then flipped to disclose their contents. The young man could see a card depicting the devil, a card depicting an angel with a trumpet, and many others.

"Do I pick at random?" inquired the young man.

"Choose what resonates with your heart." Philemon counseled.

"But… I'm not sure what the cards mean." stated the young man.

"The mind does not require understanding for the heart to act." Philemon chuckled. "Go on."

The young man gave a faint nod. He looked at the drawings on the card, seeing the sun, moon, and a tower, before his gaze was drawn to a card displaying a peculiar figure.

It bears the roman numeral "XIII" on it. The figure was a skeleton in black armor on a white steed. He touched the card with his hand, as if he already knew the answer.

The card of choice drifted like the other two cards he chose, but this time it darted at him, passing through his chest as if he hadn't been there at all. The card then vanished, as if it had entered his body.

The young man reflected about what had just occurred, but he was unable to draw any conclusions.

"Good," Philemon remarked, disrupting the young man's thoughts. The young man moved his gaze to Philemon's seat, but he was nowhere to be found. Instead, the young man followed the source of the voice and discovered Philemon standing behind him, beside a blue door.

"It is time for you to begin your journey," Philemon stated.

"What would I do on my journey?" wondered the young man, who is trying to comprehend what is happening to him.

"Well, that's up to you," Philemon answered quietly. "However, if you want my counsel, create bonds with others; establish a trust chain from one comrade to another."

"Bonds?" inquired the young man. He remembered his best friend, who had killed him so easily, and he wondered if he could ever form "bonds" with others again after that experience.

"A guide will help you through your obstacles," said Philemon. "Listen to your heart, and he will carve a path for you."

The young man just nodded faintly, still a bit dazed as to what to make of this scenario. Philemon then suddenly opened the door, revealing a blinding light that made the young man cover his eyes.

"Go on, young man." said Philemon, giving his warmest smile for the last time. "Do not hide from the others; let loose of your mask; that is all I can say to you."

As if on instinct, the young man began to walk towards the light, and not a second later, the light consumed him, transporting him to another place.