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In the library, Strange was holding a magical book, reading it quietly. Beside him, Roger's soul was out of his body, lying there as if he were asleep.
“You never planned on teaching him magic, did you?”
Suddenly, Strange heard soone speaking to him. He turned to see the mage Wong, who was supposed to be dead, standing there with a suitcase in hand, seemingly ready to go on a trip.
Strange glanced at him and replied, “He can’t learn our magic. Whether it’s spiritual power or cosmic power, it all boils down to the fact that our universe has things that don’t exist in other universes. Once he leaves our universe, he won’t be able to do anything.”
Strange spoke while looking at Roger, who appeared to be sleeping, and continued, “The power that truly suits him is his own. Magic, to him, is just icing on the cake. I won’t really teach him, and even if I wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to learn. All I can do is help him purify his spirit and understand who he truly is.”
“Fine, do whatever you want. I’m going to return this.” Wong, holding his large suitcase, opened a portal next to Strange.
Strange, watching Wong prepare to leave, said, “Safe travels?”
“I’ll be back soon. Try not to ss things up before I return.”
“Co on, I’m the Sorcerer Supre.”
“…I’m leaving.”
Wong didn’t bother responding further. He turned and stepped through the golden portal, disappearing from sight.
Strange shook his head and placed the magic book he was holding onto the table, then looked at the unconscious Roger.
By now, he should be waking up.
One second, two seconds, three seconds…
Ten seconds passed, and suddenly, Roger woke up as if startled from a nightmare. His forehead was drenched in sweat, as if he had just experienced sothing terrifying in his dreams.
After taking deep breaths for a while to calm down, Roger glanced at Strange, who was smiling at him. Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Roger asked, “…How long was I out?”
“Two hours, just enough ti for a movie,” Strange replied. With a gesture, a cup of tea floated in front of Roger. Strange smiled and asked, “So, what did you learn?”
“…”
Roger shot Strange a hostile glare.
After spending so much ti in his spiritual space with another version of himself, Roger finally realized sothing: Strange probably never intended to teach him magic.
The reason Strange brought him here was because he saw through Roger’s inner confusion and uncertainty. He knew that Roger had always been troubled by his own power.
So, this spiritual training was both a test of Roger’s strength and his mind.
It took Roger a long ti to finally grasp that fact after being berated by another version of himself for what seed like ages.
But it wasn’t without its benefits. Through this spiritual exercise, Roger did learn a lot.
However, looking at Strange’s smiling face, Roger took a deep breath. Instead of answering Strange’s question, he raised his right fist and said, “I have sothing to say to you right now.”
“You’re not going to punch , are you?” Strange asked, intrigued.
“Of course not. I just want to say…” Roger smiled, but in the next mont, he flicked his middle finger up at Strange and said, “Eat sh*t!”
Strange: “…”
…
No one else would ever know what Roger experienced inside that spiritual space.
To Strange, only two hours had passed in the real world, but for Roger, it felt like two days!
During those two days, the other version of Roger had thoroughly dragged him through the mud, digging up all the embarrassing monts Roger had forgotten or repressed, and replaying them for him, like so sort of twisted ho movie.
It made Roger want to die from sheer embarrassnt.
But thanks to that version of himself, the rage that had been brewing in Roger’s heart had subsided quite a bit. Following his counterpart’s advice, he stopped suppressing himself and decided to embrace his true nature.
In that spiritual space, the other version of Roger said sothing that stuck with him.
He told Roger to have more confidence in himself. If Roger was truly worried that gaining this power would cause him to hurt others, then he’d never turn into soone like Holander. In fact, he didn’t need to suppress himself at all.
If Roger hadn’t been concerned about this from the start, he would’ve already beco another Holander long before arriving in this world.
What the other Roger said might have been a bit roundabout, but the main point was simple: Roger was overthinking things.
“So now you understand who you are and what you want to do, right?”
It was as if Strange had forgotten Roger’s earlier insult. He spoke to Roger with a tone of deep aning.
Dressed in a mage’s robe, Roger sat at a table in the library, expressionlessly flipping through a magic book, nodding to Strange.
This journey into his spiritual space had helped Roger co to terms with two things.
The first was about himself: whether he was Holander or Roger, he was still his own person. He wasn’t soone else, nor could anyone else replace him. Roger was Roger, not John, not Holander, and not Superman.
But he could beco Holander, or he could beco Superman. The choice was entirely his.
The second realization was his purpose.
The other Roger was right. The real Roger was a hesitant, conflicted guy who often started sothing without fully committing to it.
Roger only truly took action when he had no other choice.
His falling out with Vought in the Boys’ world happened because of this. His decision to fight for the zombie world was the sa.
Roger had never had a clear goal of his own. Up until now, he hadn’t felt the need for one.
But things were different now.
Roger had a goal worth fighting for.
He decided to go ho.
Before, he had thought about returning to the Earth where his friends and family were, but he always dismissed the idea, thinking it was impossible. That’s why Roger had given up on the notion.
Now, he wasn’t just thinking about it, he was determined to find a way back, no matter how long it took or how many worlds he had to traverse.
His ho was out there.
“So, are you going to teach magic now?” Roger asked Strange after collecting his thoughts.
He had completed his spiritual training. It might not have been perfect, but at least he’d found a direction to pursue. That should’ve fulfilled Strange’s requirents, right?
But to Roger’s surprise, Strange gave him a cryptic smile and said, “Magic? You’ve already learned it.”
Roger: “?”
Roger was sure that if Strange said sothing ridiculous like, “Your heart is your magic,” he would beat the crap out of him
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