"You filthy scum! Go back to hell!" Mordo, standing tall at the forefront, smashed a nightmare's skull with his Wand of Watoomb.
The sorcerer's face was resolute, his entire body bathed in the Vishanti's radiant aura. His gaze lifted toward the white-robed figure disappearing behind the thick clouds, his eyes filled with both concern and reverence.
The previous Sorcerer Supreme, Agamotto, had established the Three Sanctums and constructed the complete system of sorcery.
He was the architect of order.
His successor, the Ancient One, with her formidable power, had repelled Dormammu of the Dark Dimension and driven out the Lords of Hell.
She was the guardian of order.
It could be said that both Sorcerers Supreme, past and present, had fearlessly shouldered the heavy responsibility of protecting Earth and resisting darkness. It was precisely this unparalleled sense of duty that had made Mordo pledge his unwavering loyalty.
The many sorcerers of Kamar-Taj chose to serve the Vishanti and revere the Sorcerer Supreme not just because of their immense power, but out of genuine respect.
When darkness descended, some would choose to cower and survive by any means; others would stand up bravely and fight to the very end.
In the Mirror Dimension's New York, everyone upheld their convictions, using their own bodies as the last wall to defend the final Sanctum.
"It's too late." After reuniting Mephisto's family, Sean landed at the New York Sanctum.
He saw the dimensional nodes losing balance, chaotic energy erupting like a volcano. The destruction of two Sanctums had caused irreversible damage to the material world's defenses.
Coupled with Hell's corruption, even if the Sanctum sorcerers succeeded in stopping the infernal invasion, it would likely be impossible to reverse the situation. Dormammu would still descend.
As the Lords of Hell had declared: Chaos comes, order crumbles; the living shall die, and the dead shall perish.
When this planet is dragged into the Dark Dimension, becoming part of Dormammu, no living being would escape.
Donning the metallic gauntlet, Sean clenched his fist. The gem-embedded sockets shimmered with three fluctuating colors; sapphire, amber, and crimson. Their abundant energy surged like a torrent.
The Ancient One had taken the Eye of Agamotto and plunged into Hell to battle the demon lords. If Dormammu descended, Sean alone would be left to avert this catastrophe.
He had fought tooth and nail to repel Thanos and the Black Order, purge S.H.I.E.L.D., eradicate Hydra, and forge an alliance with Asgard to initiate the Nine Realms Defense Strategy.
Soon, the Lunar Shield Project would be officially implemented. With the World Security Council's approval, the five major nations would establish the first lunar colony, heralding the dawn of humanity's interstellar migration.
After painstakingly reaching this point, how could Sean tolerate Dormammu destroying his grand vision just as he was about to embark on mankind's journey to the stars?
He activated the gauntlet. The tricolored light unfurled like a colossal curtain. Then, a devastating deluge of sapphire, amber, and crimson surged forth, engulfing the swarming hellspawn.
Every sorcerer froze. Within the dazzling radiance, the dark minions seemed to solidify before crumbling into fine dust.
"Those hellish scum don't fear sacrifice. Your only hope lies with the Ancient One–"
Before Sean could finish, a thunderous explosion erupted from Hell. A massive crimson dragon's head was hurled out, crushing a Manhattan skyscraper.
"Well then, it seems the great Sorcerer Supreme doesn't need our concern." Sean shrugged as he watched Strange emerge from the New York Sanctum, now clad in new attire.
A levitating crimson cloak, and an ancient bronze tome in his hands. Strange made a dazzling debut in his new guise.
"The Cloak of Levitation... the Book of the Vishanti... Where did you even find these?" Mordo asked, his face a picture of astonishment.
Gaining the acknowledgment of powerful relics was no easy feat, yet Strange had arrived bearing two of them at once.
The former was a magical cloak that allowed its wearer to levitate and fly freely at considerable speed, even acting independently in battle according to its master's will.
The latter was one of Kamar-Taj's most important relics, recording countless spells throughout history. It was immensely powerful and indestructible.
"I found them in the ruins of the London Sanctum. What's the situation?" Strange replied tersely.
He hadn't intended to return to the fight. For him, Kamar-Taj, and even the identity of a sorcerer, held no sense of belonging. His reason for seeking out Kamar-Taj and studying under the Sorcerer Supreme had been simple: to heal his hands and resume his career in New York.
The Dark Dimension? Dormammu? Hell's invasion? Strange couldn't care less. He just wanted his old life back. He wanted to return to being that confident and brilliant surgeon.
But fate had other plans. Witnessing the sorcerers fighting desperately, refusing to retreat even against foes dozens– no, hundreds of times stronger, forced him to confront reality.
The world teetered on the brink, and all he could think about was going back?
As the Ancient One had said, not everyone was willing to shoulder responsibility from the start. Strange had broken free from his mental shackles, taking his first step on the path of a superhero.
"The Ancient One has stormed into Hell, aiming to eliminate the remaining enemies before Dormammu arrives." Mordo replied, gripping the Wand of Watoomb tightly, his expression grave.
"Is there any way to stop Dormammu's descent?" Strange flipped through the Book of the Vishanti, continuously selecting potent spells. He channeled energy to form the Shield of the Seraphim over the New York Sanctum.
Mordo looked up at the ominous sky, echoing Sean's words, "It's too late."
The destabilized dimensional nodes sent violent energy crashing against the Sanctum. The critical structure's walls began shedding large chunks of masonry, disintegrating into dust.
The once-sturdy spatial barrier now resembled fragile glass, webbed with alarming cracks that seemed ready to shatter completely at any moment.
A glimpse of the Dark Dimension's desolate abyss emerged. The sky appeared to split apart as thick clouds swirled into a massive vortex. Black currents shrieked and howled, even devouring the lightning flashing within.
Then... a pair of colossal eyes brimming with annihilative light fixed upon this world.
It was the gaze of Dormammu.
"Offer... submit... eternal..."
Inscrutable syllables, murmured like whispers, echoed in everyone's ears.