"Sorcerer Supreme, I've truly been busy."
Aron had arrived at Kamar Taj and looked at the Ancient One with unease.
The Ancient One smiled and remained silent.
After a while, she slowly said:
"Busy ranking in games and collecting points, or deceiving Mephisto?"
A calm smile lingered on her face.
Aron's eyes lit up, immediately catching the meaning in her words.
"Sorcerer Supreme, you know about leaderboards too?"
The Ancient One took a deep breath. She wondered if this child possessed some special ability: a hundred percent guarantee to make me angry.
Every time she spoke with him, she felt as if her lifespan was being shortened.
Still, she replied.
"The game you played… I tried it too. I made an account."
"Stop!"
"I know what you're trying to say! I don't need you to join! I don't have time to play with you!"
The Ancient One didn't let him finish. She only wanted to understand what was so attractive that even the guardians of the temple could neglect their duties.
"And now, to serious matters."
"Mephisto, I won't stop him. That's your fight. I know you're now strong enough to be called Sub-Heavenly Father. But…"
She looked him straight in the eyes.
"The true, enraged Heavenly Father is still a force you cannot match. If it becomes necessary, you may come to me for help."
Aron opened his mouth. "Anci…"
"Don't thank me!" she interrupted with a wave of her hand.
"Your business is finished. Now we'll talk about mine."
The sound of a strike echoed as the Eye of Agamotto fell onto the table.
Aron's heart skipped a beat.
What is this? Does she plan to accuse me of theft? Or shift the responsibility onto me?
But the Ancient One continued, her voice heavy.
"Do you know how severely you are disturbing the timeline?"
"Once, I could at least glimpse a little into the future. Now… everything is erased. The timeline is completely disrupted. Almost nothing I see will happen."
There was not a trace of satisfaction on her face.
"The difference between a jewel and an ordinary pendant is now almost nothing."
Aron spread his hands. "Sorcerer Supreme, that's not my fault. And the future isn't necessarily a bad thing."
"Perhaps not, but there is one thing you must correct."
The Ancient One was now completely serious.
"Stephen Strange!"
"The one who was meant to succeed me!"
"In the original timeline, he would soon suffer an accident. His hands would be destroyed. Seeking a cure, he would embark on the path of magic."
Speaking of Strange's life, it was as if she was reading from a pre-written text.
"But now, because of your interference, that will never happen. Just as Ultron appeared earlier and was destroyed before he was meant to. The Sokovia crisis ended, and more importantly… the accident that shaped Strange's life will not occur."
"I have observed countless futures. Without that accident, Strange will never set foot on the path of magic."
Her brows furrowed.
In the original timeline, Strange was her successor.
But now, with Aron in play, everything was disrupted.
Successor? Impossible. Aron was far too lazy to take on that responsibility. He didn't even want to be a temple guardian, let alone the protector of the entire multiverse.
"Alas…" she sighed.
Aron leaned forward. "So what do you want from me? You can't expect me to drive a car myself and crash like Strange, can you?"
The Ancient One fell silent.
Aron's eyes widened. "You don't mean…?"
"That's right. It doesn't matter whether it's a traffic accident or something else. You must put him back on the right path. Only then will he become what he must."
Aron was speechless. His eyes widened as if he couldn't believe those words had just come from the mouth of the Sorcerer Supreme.
It sounded like she was ordering… an assassination.
"Not exactly appropriate, is it? My conscience stings a little…" Aron said, trying to avoid the task.
The Ancient One raised her eyebrows.
"Your choice. Either Strange sets foot on the right path and takes my place. Or you will take on the responsibility. You will become Sorcerer Supreme, and from then on you will no longer have the chance to be lazy. You will be the one who protects Earth from multidimensional threats."
After a short silence, Aron sighed.
"Then I'd rather look for a truck."
His answer was quick and without hesitation.
...
After leaving Kamar Taj, Aron returned to the New York temple with a pensive expression.
"Did the Honorable Ancient One seek you out?" Wanda asked worriedly, noticing his look.
"She asked me to help her correct the timeline." Aron frowned. "But not in a spiritual sense, in a physical one. That's the problem."
It wasn't difficult to find a truck to cause an accident for Stephen Strange. But it couldn't be an ordinary death.
It had to look like an accident that left him disfigured, just as it had in the original flow of time, his hands had to be crippled, but he had to survive.
"This seems to be a test of my driving skills." Aron smiled faintly, though without real cheer.
Ever since he had learned to use teleportation, driving was never needed again.
In fact, he hardly even walked. Wherever he went, it was instantaneous.
"Maybe you should start practicing driving a car."
At the moment Aron began thinking about whether to buy a car, the core of the temple trembled. Currents of energy passed through the walls, and the ground shook slightly.
...
Meanwhile, in Texas.
Johnny Blaze had lived in seclusion for years near the town of Woodland. His past as Ghost Rider was something he had tried to leave behind, but the shadows of hell had never fully abandoned him.
At the edge of the desert, a spatial rift opened, red as a molten volcano. It looked as if it led into a world of fire and ash.
"Looks like you were right." An old man in an elegant black suit, leaning on a cane, stepped out of the crack. His eyes were like those of a predator, cold and calculating, and his gaze swept across the landscape with sinister curiosity.
"I felt Blackheart's traces."
As soon as he came to Earth, the old man – Mephisto, stopped and focused his attention into the distance. His smile was cold, but a hunger flickered in his eyes.
"Ah…"
Behind him, an inarticulate sound, like a whimper, was heard. It was Robbie Reyes. His face was distorted, and his mouth was gone, as if reality itself had erased it.
Johnny had disappeared earlier, leaving Robbie alone to face Mephisto. He had no way to escape, nor to call for help.
In despair, Robbie tried to move his tongue, as if words might somehow form, but he couldn't produce a sound. Without a mouth, he was condemned to silence.
Mephisto turned and looked at him. A sly smile crossed his face, and his eyes sparkled with satisfaction when he saw the fear in Robbie's expression.
"Boy, do you still not understand?" he asked in a threatening, almost friendly tone. "The devil has always been the best at deception."
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