Claire was standing where Christine had left her, feeling intimidated if she was honest with herself.

Why? I've fought trolls, I've nearly drowned, I've… Never gone to a school like this.

Claire had to admit it. New York was a lot different then Arcadia. The people, the endless buildings… In Arcadia, you could practically walk out of the town into the woods.

But not here. Even in Christine's neighborhood, there was a never ending sound of people and cars, any time of the day or night, the lights of the city stabbing up into the increasingly cool skies, as Autumn turned to Winter.

And here she was, Claire, defeater of Angor Rot, apprentice to Doctor Strange…

Acting like she was getting ready to run away.

"Hi!" Claire turned at the voice, to see a gangly looking teen walking up to her. "I'm Peter Parker, are you new here?"

"Yeah, I moved back to New York." Claire smiled. "Our apartment sort of got smashed by a space whale."

"Ouch." Peter shook his head. "Well, welcome to school. You here for the STEM program?"

"Yeah…" Claire smiled. "Christine, she's the lady who watching after me until my parents move here, said it's one of the best in the state. Since she's a neurosurgeon…"

"It is—Hey, MJ!" Peter gestured at an attractive, brown haired girl. "This is a new student! Maybe she'd be interested in the club?"

"I…" Claire closed her mouth with a pang of loneliness. Peter reminded her of a cross between Jim and Toby. "I need to get my feet under me first." She smiled. "I'm new here and well, I just… When I left things were a bit crazy."

"Crazy?" MJ asked.

"Her apartment got blown up by the Chitauri." Peter supplied.

"Ouch. Well, we don't have a vulture running around here any more."

"Vulture?" Claire paused and tried to remember which one—oh, right. "Yeah, that must have been pretty strange."

"It really was, but at least we had a Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman to save the day… Right MJ?"

"Dork." MJ rolled her eyes. "Don't mind him, he's a superhero fanboy."

"I won't. So, what teachers do I need to look out for…"

Claire felt better as Peter and MJ started to chat. At least school might feel sort of normal.

Ms. Klien lived alone. Her son had moved away, her husband dead. The woman didn't have many friends. She walked up the long stairwell to her apartment, fumbling with her key, when the lights went out.

"Oh, Damn it," she muttered. "Why doesn't the super ever fix things here. I'm paying…" Her voice trailed off as she smelled something. Something… foul. Decaying.

"He… hello?" She said to the dark hallway. Nothing. No sound. But there was a feeling of danger.

She fumbled with the keys, frantic now, to unlock the locks that were now keeping her from safety.

Finally, the last lock was undone. She pulled the door open.

To reveal blackness, and a single three-lobed eye, burning in the night.

Klien didn't even have a chance to scream.

"I'm not liking this," Strange muttered.

"The wards protecting earth were damaged by Kaecilius, but they are now being healed." Wong pointed out. The two were staring at a complex image of the globe, floating in his mansion, glyphs filling the air around it.

"Yes, but before that, they weren't, which is what pulled Claire here. And every intrusion weakened the wards a little more." Strange gestured at the image. "It's going to take time to fully restore them, and in that time, things can slip through."

"Even now, something would have to be very powerful to come through of its own accord, and we would see that."

"What if something was invited?"

"The books."

"Books, rituals, hell, Wong, you know that without our wards, even an Ouija Board could call something nasty." Strange shook his head. It was amazing how many foolish superstitions, "opening your mind to the spheres" stuff that he once had dismissed as New Age foolishness was only safe due to a metaphorical wall that was around earth. Because of that wall, only the truly talented—and foolish—could get into real trouble.

But now… "Yeah. That stuff is pretty minor, we can cleanse it, and most people with any kind of will power could fight it off. But real rituals? There was a period where almost anyone could have sent out a call…"

"And depending on what answered…"

"We could be in real trouble."