After the answer was revealed, Stephen's face went pale. He stumbled a few steps and nearly collapsed.
Annie and Hughie both sighed softly. Even Billy glanced at him with a rare flicker of sympathy in his eyes. Considering how Stephen had acted up to now, it was clear he had tried—really tried.
"Why?! Why does it have to be this way?! I don't want to be the Sorcerer Supreme! I just want to be with Christine!"
Stephen clutched his head, on the verge of breaking down.
Thor stepped forward, trying to calm him down. "Come on, man. Trust me, okay? It's not time to lose hope yet. Just treat this whole future vision thing like a movie. Don't overthink it."
Deadpool cut in with a snort. "Oh please, big guy—you were just as wrecked a minute ago. Don't think I didn't see you tearing up."
"I was not! No way! Ha—how could I cry? I'm the God of Thunder, son of Odin!" Thor's voice cracked slightly as he furiously shook his head in denial.
To be fair, it's easy to stay calm and rational when you're just watching someone else's tragedy unfold. But when it's your own fate laid bare in front of everyone… it tests your limits.
Stephen wasn't weak-willed. After venting for a bit, he pulled himself together, his expression firming.
"I'll stop that future from happening. I swear I will."
Thor gave him a nod. "We've got your back, man. It might not be as bad as it looks."
The screen flickered again, continuing the projection.
In the vision, Stephen stumbled upon a strange and ancient temple. Instantly alert, he conjured a portal and stepped into the upper levels of the structure.
The place was clearly rigged with magical defenses. Stephen noticed the runes etched on the ground and deftly disarmed them, smiling to himself. "Fancy little welcome party."
Only after disabling the trap did he proceed, but before he could get far, a grid of runes lit up all around him—floor, ceiling, walls. His smile vanished. The ground beneath his feet gave way, and he plummeted, crashing hard onto the stone floor below.
Ouch.
At that moment, a familiar figure reappeared—the same mysterious monk from earlier.
"Gotta say," the monk said, eyeing Stephen up and down, "you're the weirdest-dressed sorcerer I've ever seen."
"This is Armani," Stephen replied with a shrug, then got straight to the point. "I'm here to find Cagliostro. According to legend, he knew how to break through an Absolute Point in time.
Can you tell me where I can find him?"
"He might be here. He might not," the monk replied, voice annoyingly cryptic. "He comes and goes."
Stephen raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? You're not about to tell me you're Cagliostro, are you?"
The monk claimed his name was O'Bengh,, a mere librarian in the Cagliostro Archives. Then he turned and led Stephen through a massive doorway.
Off-screen, Deadpool raised his hand. "Alright, who wants to bet this 'O'Bengh' guy is totally Cagliostro in disguise?"
Stephen glanced at him sideways. "Doesn't matter. What matters is whether he can help me."
"Wow. That's kinda selfish, don't you think?" Deadpool said, shrugging. "You hit a wall and just expect others to bail you out?"
"I know, I know. I'm not expecting help—I'll figure it out myself." Stephen exhaled deeply. It felt like fate was mocking him at every turn.
Back in the vision, Stephen was now immersed in the vast library.
He wasn't there to sightsee. This place housed countless forbidden secrets, and he devoured the books like a starving man, desperate to find a way to undo the unchangeable.
Finally, he found something. One of the grimoires described a method to bypass an Absolute Point in time: by consuming enough soul energy from other beings, it was possible to resurrect a dead soul.
It was a start.
Without hesitation, Stephen acted.
He summoned a powerful interdimensional creature known as Shuma-Gorath—a monster with thick, writhing tentacles.
Off-screen, some viewers immediately recalled the tentacled eyeball beast from a previous round of the Quiz game. It looked almost identical.
Stephen hadn't summoned it to fight. He only wanted to absorb a bit of its power—just one tentacle might be enough.
But clearly, Shuma-Gorath wasn't in a generous mood.
Before Stephen could even lift a finger, one of the creature's tentacles snatched his leg and proceeded to whip him around like a ragdoll.
The next thing we saw, Stephen was flat on a hospital bed, bruised and battered, with O'Bengh tending to his wounds. Clearly, he'd been absolutely wrecked.
When he finally regained consciousness, O'Bengh warned him again. "These creatures aren't just dangerous—they're incompatible with human nature. Their energy will destroy you."
But Stephen had already made up his mind.
He wasn't backing down.
"She's worth it," he said firmly, eyes like steel. "I'm ready to give up everything."
O'Bengh shook his head. "There's a line between devotion and delusion. Love doesn't just break your heart—it erodes your mind."
His words were heavy with meaning.
But Stephen didn't flinch. He simply changed tactics.
If Shuma-Gorath was too strong, then he'd start small—build up his power gradually. Weak creatures first. Then stronger ones. Until he could stand toe-to-toe with a god.
What followed was a slow descent into darkness.
Stephen began summoning one mystical creature after another—then absorbing them. Small ones at first. Then dragons. Then demons. Every soul he devoured pushed him further down a path that looked less like salvation and more like corruption.
Watching from the sidelines, the Watcher reappeared.
"He's already lost his way," the Watcher said solemnly. "I could have stopped him. I could have warned him. But in his universe, his fate isn't worth the sacrifice of others. Besides… he wouldn't have listened."
Back in the room, Stephen stared at the screen, his face cold and unreadable.
"I hate that guy. All that holier-than-thou monologuing..."
Annie raised an eyebrow. "He means well. He just can't interfere. And he's right, Stephen. You're too obsessed. This path you're on? It's not good."
"Like the monk said—love might be what breaks your heart, but it's also what's tearing your mind apart."
____
T/N:
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