◉◉◉◉◉
Before Stephen Strange could even speak, Mordo snapped, his voice sharp with disapproval.
"Watch your words," he said. "You are not the Sorcerer Supre. That title belongs to the Ancient One. Even if you're her successor, it isn't yours to claim lightly."
Strange blinked, stunned by the sudden tension.
Nolan, unfazed, gave Mordo a bored glance. "Relax. I was setting the tone. You ruined the mont." He sighed. "Dull man."
Then his eyes shifted to Strange.
"Stephen Strange," he said calmly, "Why are you here?"
There was no warmth in his tone only evaluation. Cold, clinical. The sa look Nolan gave unstable artifacts or dangerous experints.
Strange's eyes widened. "You… you're the one who captured that demon. You're the Sorcerer Supre?"
"Now he rembers," Nolan murmured.
Strange's face twisted with anger. "You could've helped back then! You saw my hands—why didn't you do anything?!"
Nolan's gaze didn't flinch. "Why would I?"
Strange clenched his fists. "You let suffer. You watched and did nothing."
Nolan stood, brushing dust from his coat. "Do you think the universe revolves around your tragedy?"
In the original tiline, the Ancient One had knocked Strange's soul out of his body to break his ego. Nolan couldn't do the exact sa thing but he had his own thods.
And right now, Strange was walking right into it.
"You're a fraud!" Strange shouted. "You and the others—this is a trick! My hands—this whole situation was engineered. Drugs, illusions, mind gas—"
He didn't get to finish.
Nolan's palm struck him.
Not physically—spiritually.
In an instant, Strange found himself floating—his body below him, unmoving. His consciousness hovered mid-air, untethered.
"What… what is this?!" Strange gasped.
Nolan stood calmly in front of him. "This is your soul."
He pointed to the limp body on the floor. "And that's your body."
Strange looked down and for the first ti, saw his true self. His astral form. His hands, glowing with black cracks, pulsed with a dark energy.
"The demon didn't just damage your nerves," Nolan said. "It infected your soul. That's why even the most advanced healing can't help you."
Strange stared at his ghostly hands, horror creeping in. "What… what is this power?"
"Demonic corruption," Nolan said. "You were cursed. Your problem isn't biological it's taphysical."
The mont shook Strange to the core. The limits of science everything he believed crumbled under the weight of what he was seeing.
Mordo spoke cautiously. "That's enough. Even with his potential, his soul is fragile."
But Nolan was already observing closely. The Astral Plane shimred with Strange's energy.
"He's promising," Nolan muttered. "No wonder the Vishanti mark him across so many tilines."
It was true. In nearly every reality Nolan had studied, Strange was the one who inherited the Eye of Agamotto.
He waved a hand, and Strange's soul was pulled back into his body.
The mont it reconnected, Strange collapsed to his knees, gasping, heart pounding. The world felt changed. Bigger. Sharper.
"Teach ," he begged. "I want to learn. I need to heal my hands."
Nolan crossed his arms. "Who said I would teach you?"
Strange looked up, confused. "What—?"
"Mordo. Throw him out."
Mordo nodded. Before Strange could protest, he was shoved backward out the creaky wooden door that slamd shut behind him.
It was as if a portal to another world had been sealed.
Strange pounded on the door, his voice raw. "Let in! Please! You have to help !"
But the door remained still.
---
Inside Kamar-Taj's Sanctum…
Nolan casually spun the Eye of Agamotto in his hand, gazing up at a floating projection of Earth. Golden marks shimred on the surface nodes of magical power, protective wards cast across the globe by the sorcerers of Kamar-Taj.
"Stop playing with that thing," Mordo said, stepping inside. "It's not a toy."
"I'm not playing," Nolan replied. "I'm learning. A Sorcerer Supre who doesn't understand the Ti Stone would be a joke."
He set the artifact down and crossed his arms, deep in thought.
He was still no closer to imprinting two dinsions onto himself. Bast had yielded no answers, nor had the ancient beasts. No one had ever succeeded in what he was trying to do.
But now Strange had appeared.
And that ant Dormammu was coming.
Without ascending to Skyfather-tier, Nolan knew he might not be able to absorb the Dark Dinsion's power entirely.
He glanced at the Eye again. Maybe it was ti to break the rule and use the Ti Stone.
The Ancient One had warned him it wouldn't feel pleasant.
"Strange has been outside for five hours," Mordo said. "Still banging on the door."
Nolan smiled faintly. "Good. Let him."
"He's stubborn. Proud. Ambitious."
"Exactly," Nolan said. "Every one of those traits is useful… if tempered properly. Otherwise, he'll end up like Kaecilius."
Mordo raised a brow. "And you're not the sa?"
"I'm nothing like him," Nolan said with a grin. "I'm humble, open-minded, and incredibly reasonable."
"You ignore every order I give you."
"Because none of your ideas are as good as mine."
"…You're impossible."
Nolan chuckled. "That's why I'll win."
◉◉◉◉◉
~Support with 200 PowerStones = 1 Bonus Chapter
◉◉◉◉◉
For early access to advanced chapters on P-atreon:
P-atreon/iamxeno
(Just remove the - hyphen to access Patreon normally)
Thank you so much for your support and for reading!
Reviews
All reviews (0)