Arthur materialized in his study, the familiar scent of old books and polished wood a jarring contrast to the sulfur and hellfire still clinging to his clothes.
His legs nearly gave out. The adrenaline that had carried him through the battle with Mephisto had vanished, leaving only the hollow ache of exhaustion.
"Master!" Winky appeared instantly, eyes widening at his scorched appearance. "Master is hurt! Winky will—"
"I'm fine, Winky. Just tired." He sank into his chair, every muscle protesting. "Where's Ariadne?"
"Miss Ari is in the training room." The house-elf wrung her hands. "She was very worried. Asked Winky to take her to you. But Winky listened to Master and did not go. She walked back and forth for many minutes… then ran into the training room. Has been hitting things. Very. Very. Hard. For two hours now."
Arthur didn't speak for a moment.
Then he stood. He knew he had to speak with Ariadne before he could rest. Her current mental state needed addressing.
He found Ariadne in the training room, demolishing a training dummy with methodical precision, each strike carrying barely controlled fury.
"You can stop destroying my equipment now," he said from the doorway. "Your stalker is gone and won't bother you for quite some time."
Ariadne spun, sweat dripping from her brow. For a heartbeat, her eyes widened—not with anger but with relief.
"You're back," she breathed, her voice softer than her fists had been. Then, as if catching herself, her shoulders stiffened. "So… he's gone?"
Arthur gave a short nod.
"Who was that?" she pressed, frustration breaking through the relief. "I was completely powerless against him. I felt like an ant in his presence."
Arthur moved into the room. Didn't sit. Didn't offer comfort.
"That was Mephisto," he said flatly. "A Hell Lord. You could say he's a demon who trades in souls and suffering."
"And you're right," he added. "Against beings like him, you're an ant. A skilled one. A dangerous one, by ant standards. But still an ant trying to fight a god."
"And you?"
Arthur shrugged. "A slightly bigger ant. With some tricks that can make him bleed. But even then—he defeated me easily. If not for a few tricks I had up my sleeve, I couldn't have injured him. Couldn't have made him leave."
Ariadne went still.
The only sound was the drip of sweat hitting the floor.
"So we're all just ants," she whispered. "Waiting to be stepped on."
"Pretty much."
"That's... depressing."
"That's reality." Arthur stood, moving to the window. "The universe is vast and full of things that could destroy us without even noticing we existed. We live in the gaps between their footsteps."
Ariadne's fists clenched. "Then what's the point of training, of getting stronger?"
"Because being a stronger ant is still better than being a weak one." He turned back to her. "Ants can bite. They can swarm. They can build things that last. And occasionally, very rarely, an ant becomes something more."
"How?"
"What?"
"How do I become more?" Her hands clenched into fists. "You're getting stronger every day. I'm… grinding. Marginal progress. Still human. Still fragile. Is there any way for me to even scratch you? I hated that feeling. When he held me. When I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't fight."
Arthur considered his words carefully. "You weren't born a wizard, so that's not an option. I've checked, and you don't have much affinity for the mystic arts either. Using mutation to achieve powers is one way, but it's too risky at the moment."
Ariadne's eyes narrowed. "So accepting Mephisto's offer would have been a good choice?"
"No." Arthur's response was immediate and firm. "He always gets what he wants. He plays with words, and you might think you're not losing anything when you agree to his deal, but only later would you learn how wrong you were. It's good you weren't tempted to accept his offer."
"I was tempted, all right," Ariadne admitted. "But not foolish enough to sell my soul to an unknown devil."
Arthur nodded. "Good."
Silence settled again.
Then—
"Is there any safe path?" she asked, voice low. "Any way for me to become… more than an ant?"
"The only safer option I see," Arthur said slowly, "is to walk further on the path of chi."
Ariadne's frustration was palpable. "But I've learned everything passed on to me by my father about chi control. I've mastered dozens of fighting styles and perfected all the moves. But it's nothing even against the Hand, much less cosmic beings like that Hell Lord."
Arthur tilted his head. "That's something I've been wondering about since I started training with you."
She blinked. "What?"
"Why can't chi be used to amplify strikes? To enhance strength? Not just build endurance over decades—actual, explosive power?"
It was something Arthur had been pondering for some time. In the comics, chi-based powers were relevant and quite strong, but in this world—the MCU in general—except for the Iron Fist, chi was basically useless except for slowly strengthening the body over years of practice.
Ariadne looked confused. "Is that even possible? My father never mentioned it. His journals didn't say anything like that."
"It should be," Arthur said. "I know the Iron Fist can do it."
Recognition dawned in Ariadne's eyes. "I've read about that legend. Do you want me to go to K'un-Lun and become the Iron Fist?"
"Yes. That would make you much stronger. And dealing with the Hand? A lot easier."
Ariadne shook her head. "Unfortunately, K'un-Lun holds the Iron Fist in extremely high regard. They'd never allow an outsider to gain that power."
"It's worth trying." Arthur's voice was calm, matter-of-fact. "If that's not possible, I'll go through their library. Figure out other ways to manipulate chi—more effectively."
"The gate to K'un-Lun only opens once every fifteen years," Ariadne pointed out. "That's 2001 according to my calculations. So we wait a couple more years for the entrance to appear? What should I do until then?"
Arthur smiled slightly. "Who said we have to wait? Anything related to space or dimensions shouldn't stop me."
He was quite confident that whatever was hiding K'un-Lun would be no match for his spatial affinity and strength .
Ariadne stared at him. "You can do that? Just... bypass their mystical barriers?"
"Do you still have your father's journals?" Arthur asked, not even bothering to answer that question. "Specifically—any mentions of K'un-Lun's location when it's not connected to Earth?"
"I… yes," she admitted. "Back at my safe house." She hesitated. "But Arthur, even if we somehow get inside… will they accept us there?"
Arthur waved off her concern. "They accepted your father. No reason to stop us."
"My father entered the normal way during the proper time. We'll be intruding."
"No need to worry about the little things," Arthur said. "I'll handle it when the time comes. Anyway, we only need access to their library. Training? The Iron Fist? Those are bonuses."
Ariadne's eyes narrowed. "Why are you bringing this up only now? Why not when I was losing every battle against the Hand?"
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Someone wasn't listening to me. I told you to pause. Resume after becoming stronger."
"I thought you meant to rest," she snapped. "Not go to K'un-Lun."
"You should have known better."
Ariadne rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her growing excitement. "So when can we go?"
"A few days. I have matters to handle first." He raised a hand before she could protest. "Not excuses. I don't know if I'll have time later. So I need to take care of business now."
She nodded slowly. "What do I need to prepare?"
"Nothing." Arthur's gaze was steady. "Just be ready. K'un-Lun won't be a walk in the park. They'll test you. Challenge you. Probably try to break you. Their training methods make our battles look gentle."
"Good." Her smile held dangerous edges. "I'm tired of gentle."