Right now, I am standing in front of a 20 ft. tall White Tiger. It fills the space, a colossal, muscled form of snowy fur rippling over impossible strength. The air crackles with an impossible tension, thick with the scent of ozone and the raw, untamed musk of the beast. Its eyes, luminous and predatory, fix on me with an unnerving intelligence, seemingly promising oblivion. In my hand, I grip a flimsy army knife, its small, dull blade glinting uselessly against the backdrop of snowy Himalayan mountains. Behind me, a person—injured and vulnerable—groaning softly, a painful reminder of my desperate situation.
My mind raced, desperately searching for a way out of this absolute death situation. I don't think this knife is any use, I mused, the thought flashing through my mind like a dying spark, consumed almost instantly by the sheer scale of the threat. But it's better than my bare fists, I suppose. At least it feels like I'm doing something. I rack my brain, frantically searching for a plan, any plan that isn't a direct path to being torn limb from limb. And I found none!
My chances of winning are zero, nil, nada! There's no way I can beat this guy, this monstrous creature of myth and nightmare, a beast that defies all natural law. Even escaping alone will be a desperate, near-impossible scramble for survival, and I have someone to protect. I made a promise, after all. A heavy sigh escapes my lips, thin and ragged, the sound lost in snowy winds of the mountains, swallowed by the sheer presence of the tiger.
How did it come to this? i thought.
How did this happen, you ask? To explain the full, bewildering situation, the chain of events that led me to face down an impossible predator in a frozen mountains, we will have to start from three days ago.
------3 days ago------
Just as I was lamenting about the troublesome things that would happen in the future, an unexpected response to my muttering put me on high alert. I stared at the bald woman wearing yellow robes, my mind racing to comprehend how she had appeared silently in my locked room.
"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice barely a strained whisper, though I tried to make it firm.
"I, Mister Ryan, am Yao," she said, her voice smooth and infinitely patient, as if she'd anticipated my question decades ago. "You can call me the Ancient One." A faint, amused smile touched her lips. "And I am female."
My mouth opened, ready to point out her unnecessary addition. "But I didn't even ask—"
"You were about to, and no, I can't read minds," she interrupted, a playful glint in her eyes, as if she plucked words directly from my nascent thoughts. She continued, before I could even formulate a new question. "But I can look into the possible future."
I sighed, exasperated. "So—"
"I am a sorcerer, more precisely I am The Sorcerer Supreme," she stated, cutting me off once more with perfect timing.
"But—" I tried again, my frustration building.
"No, Stephen Strange is not yet the Sorcerer Supreme, the current him doesn't even believe in magic." She finished, a tiny chuckle escaping her lips, and I gave up. This was vexing. Could she not let me at least finish a single sentence?
I made an exaggerated action of zipping my mouth shut and gestured for her to go on. She smiled slightly, acknowledging my silent plea.
"I have waited 25 years for this meeting," she finally said, her voice dropping, taking on a gravitas that made the hairs on my arms stand up.
Why!? My internal voice screamed. I wasn't even born then! How could she have waited for me?
Her gaze seemed to pierce right through me, answering my unasked question. "Because you, my little friend, are the one responsible for messing with time. And your actions, however unintentional, almost led to the collapse of the current society, which might have resulted in the destruction of our very planet in the future.
Yet, it is strange that there are no correcting forces acting upon you. You are the actual owner of the body you are in, no signs of possession, mind-control or any other-dimensional energies. Well you have my delayed congratulations, you have time-travelled with minimal side effects. It also looks like your time travel is an irreversible established fact."
"What does that mean?" I blurted out, then, remembering the greater implications, added, "And how did I almost destroy the world? How come there's no news about it?"
Thank god! She let me finish my words, I thought, a small victory amidst the overwhelming revelations.
The Ancient One merely smiled. "That will be a lengthy story, but I believe you do not have time for that right now."
"Why?" I asked, my brow furrowed in confusion.
I don't even need to voice my question, I mused, a bizarre thought flashing through my mind. How great it would be if my employees could do that.
"Because if I am correct," she continued, her gaze unwavering, "you have a promise to keep. And if you do not hurry, most if not almost all among the possible outcomes I see, you will fail to do so if you do not set out soon." Her voice grew more urgent. "You have two hours to depart before you are doomed for a failure."
Fail what!? My mind screamed, but I held my tongue this time.
"And if any of your employees have some talent in sorcery, I might be willing to teach them that," she added, as if an afterthought.
Damn! That was certainly mind-reading, I thought, despite her earlier denial.
After she finished her part, she got up from the chair. A glowing, shimmering portal, radiating a soft golden light, opened silently in the air, showing a glimpse of a serene, stone-walled room beyond. She walked into it without another word, and the portal closed behind her with a soft whoosh, leaving me alone in my room, my heart still hammering.
And so I was set on a path that led to my current situation.