The night had fallen over the wealthy district of New York.
The banquet organized by the Neurological Medical Association had just ended.
In the hall, filled with glittering chandeliers and the elite of the medical world, all eyes throughout the evening had been fixed only on one man, the top surgeon Stephen Strange.
"Dr. Strange's presentation was a great success. His contribution to neurosurgery is truly impressive…"
"Haha, Christine, did you hear what they're saying about me?"
The banquet was over, and Strange, with a wide smile, was driving in his Lamborghini.
Beside him, in the passenger seat, sat his companion Christine Palmer.
"By the way, did you see Nick's expression? That guy is definitely bursting with jealousy," Strange continued, pride in his voice.
It was not empty boasting. He had the right to be proud. Even in his youth, he had reached a level of skill that cast most of his colleagues into shadow.
The hands of Stephen Strange were made for the scalpel. The most difficult surgeries before him looked like routine procedures. He became a legend in the world of medicine, a man whom every patient trusted as if he had been sent by God himself.
At this moment he was living a life many could never even dream of. Fame, wealth, a luxury car, and a woman beside him who could rival every success of his with her beauty.
Yet Christine did not share his enthusiasm. Instead of a smile, her eyes rolled.
"Stephen, you've been bragging for half an hour. Do you know my ears are burning from your stories?"
She looked out the window, trying to ignore his self-confidence.
The Lamborghini sped through the streets, and the images of the outside world changed with such speed that it seemed as though time was flying.
"Can you slow down a little?" Christine suddenly said, her voice tinged with panic.
Strange shifted his gaze from her to the road and noticed the blinding lights ahead.
A truck stood at the intersection, its headlights stabbing into their eyes, and its position seemed unnatural.
"Are you okay?" Strange braked hard, concern creeping into his voice.
"Stop. I need some fresh air."
Christine's face had turned pale. She didn't want to continue the drive.
Strange obeyed, the Lamborghini slowed and parked by the roadside. Both of them got out and walked toward an open space near the road.
"The stars are beautiful tonight," she said, raising her gaze to the sky dotted with shining lights.
"Yes," Strange replied, nodding. He wasn't looking at the stars, but at her. "Beautiful."
He paused, and then, with a faint smile and a rare dose of sincerity in his voice, added:
"You know, Christine, I used to always feel that there was another life I could have had. More exciting, better than this. I often dreamed of it."
For a moment he stopped, his eyes gleaming under the starlight.
"But not anymore. Because thanks to you, I live the most beautiful life I could have wished for."
...
"???"
Aron was confused.
In the middle of the night, he was pushing a truck!
Why would someone suddenly stop by the roadside and start spreading dog food?
I can't believe it!
Aron pressed the gas pedal and set the vehicle in motion.
The truck belched a cloud of black smoke as it charged straight toward Strange and Christine.
"Run!"
"Stephen!"
"I knew something was wrong!"
Aron had only just begun.
Christine, who was still looking at one, two, three connected stars in the sky, realized at the last moment what was happening.
At the same instant, Strange pulled Christine into the Lamborghini.
"Hold on!"
He stepped on the gas and shot forward.
The Lamborghini's V10 engine roared, and the car vanished into the night.
"???"
In the muddy truck, a question mark appeared on Aron's face.
But in the next moment, he only smiled and shook his head. This was just a test.
After all, he had already publicly revealed Strange's fate, that a truck would turn him into "dead Strange."
"This guy's life is really entertaining."
"Except that I just took away the prerequisite for him to become a hero."
As everyone knows, every superhero begins with tragedy or the death of their parents, or the loss of a loved one.
In any case, one is worse than the other.
"Should I kill Christine?"
Aron felt that thought flash through his mind.
He immediately remembered the episode of What If…?, where "Dark Strange" destroyed the entire universe for Christine.
"Forget it. If that black Strange shows up, not even the Ancient One could change anything."
He shook his head and dismissed the idea.
He wasn't stupid. Why would he create a mortal enemy for himself?
"Better to just destroy his hands, like in the movie."
Aron decided.
The red light of the Reality Stone flashed in his hand.
The truck vanished without a trace.
In its place appeared a Lamborghini, identical to the one Strange had just escaped in.
Boom!
Aron pressed the gas pedal to the floor.
The engine roared as the car shot forward, but then skidded and slammed hard into the roadside barrier.
"What…?"
"Are cars like this really that hard to drive?"
Aron got out, rolled his eyes, and immediately cast a teleportation spell.
...
On the other side.
Strange and Christine, who had managed to escape, finally slowed down after a wild ride.
"I think we're safe now…"
Strange wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"Thanks to you, Christine, if you hadn't reacted in time…"
"Stephen, have you offended anyone lately?" she asked nervously.
It was obvious that the truck had been targeting him.
"I… I don't know. Should I have?"
Strange was uncertain.
People like him, even if they didn't directly offend anyone, could easily make enemies.
"Alright, don't think about it now."
"I'll take you home."
Relieved, Strange continued driving and escorted Christine to her apartment.
Nothing happened on the way.
When he finally dropped her off, he felt great relief.
Then he drove back to his villa.
"Who could it be?"
"Nick?"
He shook his head. "No, probably not. Even though he's jealous of me, he wouldn't have the courage to hire killers."
He parked the car, entered the elevator, and went up.
But as soon as he opened the door and turned on the light — he froze stiff.
"Who are you!?"
Strange was breathless when he saw several strangers in his living room.
They wore earth-yellow robes like monastic garments, and their eyes were rimmed with strange black shadow.
When they saw him, they all stood up and looked at him at once.
"Don't come closer!"
Strange's heart jumped. Instinctively he wanted to run, but when he turned — the door was gone! Behind him was only a bare wall.
"Greetings, Stephen. You don't know me yet… but you soon will."
Among them, the leader stood up and slowly approached.
The others teleported and in an instant pinned Strange to the floor.
They forced his hands apart and pressed his back against the ground.
"Remember my name is… Kaecilius."
The leader leaned over him.
In Strange's terrified gaze, he pulled out a hammer and raised it high.
–––
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