----
Nolan studied the symbols and phonetics that Black Sky had scrawled across the tablet. Despite being fragnted, the demon known as "Beast" had once been worshipped by the Hand as a god—and as such, was used to granting dark powers and arcane techniques to his followers.
"This is everything I know," Beast said through Black Sky's restrained body.
"Physical augntation... berserker rage... ntal control... dinsional summoning..."
"That's it?" Nolan frowned. "Weak."
Only the last item caught his interest.
Summoning a Hell Dinsion.
That had value specifically, as a consistent, controllable source of demonic energy. If he could access the dinsion without needing Beast, then his army of demonic constructs would be sustained independently.
"That's all I can offer for now," Beast said reluctantly. "I'm just a fragnt a projection of my true self. If you want deeper magic, I can teach you the ritual to contact my true body."
'If my real self were here, you'd already be dead' he thought bitterly.
"Write it down," Nolan said flatly.
Beast hesitated and grumbled but obeyed laying out the incantation, the symbols, and the summoning gestures.
Nolan examined the notes.
"Ermidamo..." he intoned softly, testing the spell. According to Beast, it was ant to boost physical strength especially when used alongside demonic energy. Allegedly, the user's strength could increase by at least 20%, and the effect could even be bestowed on others.
But nothing happened.
Nolan's eyes narrowed.
"Your spell's broken."
"It's not broken," Beast retorted. "You're not a demon. Even if you've absorbed demonic power, you're not a native vessel. These spells require a link to the hell dinsion a bridge to your essence."
"Unless you make an offering to my true self, this stuff is useless."
Nolan collected the pages calmly. "Then I'll keep testing. You're not going anywhere until I unlock the full process."
"Wait—wait! The last spell doesn't require demonic essence. The summoning one—it just needs a blood-drawn circle and a chant."
---
Soon after, the lab was cleared. A large circle, drawn in fresh human blood, occupied the center floor. It was built with precision an inverted pentagram that resembled a ram's head.
Surrounding it were magnetic containnt rigs designed to trap stray energy or entities should they erge from the rift.
Max stood watch.
Nolan began the incantation. As his voice echoed across the chamber, the blood in the circle shimred with an eerie purple glow.
But then—
A burst of golden sparks tore the air open above the lab.
The sparks spun in a circle—carefully, deliberately—and from within stepped a robed figure in deep saffron.
Nolan paused.
Max shot forward in a bolt of electricity, standing protectively in front of him.
"Stop, Nolan," ca a calm, androgynous voice beneath the hood. "Do not open the Hell Dinsion."
Nolan stared at the newcor, brow furrowed. "Ancient One?"
He already knew the answer. The robe, the portal this was unmistakably the Sorcerer Supre.
"We've t in many tilines," the Ancient One said, pulling back her hood. "But this is our first encounter in this one."
She looked... ethereal. Neither fully male nor female. Bald. Perfectly composed. She had the otherworldly presence of soone who had seen too much—and survived it all.
And Nolan felt the pressure. Like when he once stood before the Spider-Totem. This was not a mortal. This was a force.
"You wield Dormammu's power," Nolan said bluntly. "But I can't open a simple gate to Hell?"
Had anyone from Kamar-Taj heard him, they would've gasped. Dormammu was the very embodint of forbidden power. Yet Nolan was accusing their revered master of using him?
The Ancient One didn't flinch.
"You really are different in this universe," she said softly.
"You didn't answer my question," Nolan pressed.
"Because you're not ready," she said. "If you open a gate to Hell as you are now, you'll beco a beacon. Demons will flock to you. The Earth will beco a hunting ground."
She raised her hand, and above them appeared a sprawling web of glowing tilines.
"This," she pointed to one faint, narrow strand, "is our current tiline."
"And these," she gestured to dozens of smaller strands weaving into it, "are others."
Nolan's eyes narrowed. "Why is mine special?"
The Ancient One spoke calmly. "Because it's growing. Other tilines are collapsing into yours. And you... are the cause."
Nolan fell silent.
"It's your soul," she explained. "It is... unique. Even across the multiverse, it has no duplicate. And that kind of soul... attracts attention."
Especially from demons.
Nolan exhaled slowly. It had to be tied to his dual talents and his layered essence. Sothing beyond even this reality's understanding.
"But I want to study demonic power," he said.
"You can," she replied. "Through magic."
"Beco my student. Learn the true structure of power. Then, when you summon darkness, it won't see your soul. Magic will shield you."
For a mont, Nolan was stunned.
It felt like a setup as if she had waited for him to make this mistake, just so she could offer herself as the solution.
A ntor. A leash.
"And Strange?" he asked. "What happens to him?"
"If you did not exist," she answered, "Stephen Strange would be the ideal Sorcerer Supre."
"But now... I believe you are better suited to inherit the mantle."
----
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