"Equal to Dormammu?"
"Hm."
The Ancient One silently observed Alaric, who had spoken those words without a hint of doubt in his voice.
The very way he had escaped the Dark Dimension was proof enough that he had been through hell this time.
It was clear he was exhausted to his very limits.
"Ahem, let's say it was forty–sixty. Or… sixty–forty," said Alaric, coughing lightly and trying to sound relaxed.
"Hm."
"Well, fine, let's call it seventy–thirty. In his favor," he added after a short pause.
The Ancient One gave him a look that clearly said: I know you're exaggerating.
Alaric merely shrugged, trying to find a comfortable position on the sofa.
His body felt as heavy as stone, every muscle sore, yet his spirit remained defiant.
No matter how exhausting the battle had been, the fact that he had managed to survive against Dormammu was incredible in itself.
Perhaps they had both pushed themselves to the limit, but one thing was certain, no one had won, and no one had lost.
In a strange way, they even understood each other.
"So what actually happened?" asked the Ancient One, pushing her thoughts aside. "Did your time magic fail?"
Alaric sighed deeply.
"It didn't work. Dormammu took control of the space around me and began draining my energy."
"Draining your power?" the Ancient One frowned. "Then logically, both of you should've vanished once the loop started again. You could've used that to escape, couldn't you?"
"Theoretically, yes," Alaric replied wearily.
"But you know as well as I do, the time loop doesn't erase Dormammu's memory. He remains aware of everything, even when time resets."
"And when the energy is drained, the loop just continues again… with the same outcome. He uses me as a battery, and I'm the one who keeps losing."
The Ancient One nodded silently.
She understood perfectly.
That was what Alaric hated the most, being powerless. To be reduced to a mere source of energy, without control, without balance.
"So, how did you resolve it?" she finally asked.
"Well…" Alaric hesitated.
He wasn't sure if he should tell her the truth.
It wasn't that he doubted her.
But he knew how cautious she was with dark forces.
If she learned that he had absorbed a portion of Dormammu's power, that his body was now infused with dark magic, she wouldn't take it calmly.
Moreover, his God of Magic was no longer a being of light.
It was now the God of Black Magic, born from Dormammu's very darkness.
And with his new Demonic Flame Body, he looked more like a dark entity than a sorcerer.
He knew that if the Ancient One saw him now, she might think he had fallen completely into darkness.
That had always been her greatest fear.
She had warned him countless times not to touch the dark arts.
He feared that if she found out now, she might decide to distance him from Kamar-Taj or, in the worst case, try to stop him.
And that would be disastrous for both of them.
Alaric knew that if it came to a confrontation, he wouldn't be helpless.
Dormammu's power flowed through his body, if he activated it, he could even weaken the Ancient One, if only for a moment.
But he would never strike at her.
So he chose silence.
"If you don't want to tell me," said the Ancient One calmly, "I won't ask again."
Alaric felt a wave of relief and smiled faintly.
"Thank you… for understanding."
He didn't want to lie to her, but he couldn't take the risk.
Kamar-Taj and the Ancient One had given him everything.
The gratitude he felt toward them was genuine, but even he was no longer the same.
Now he had to find a way to fuse white and black magic into one, to create balance.
To be neither light nor darkness, but something above both.
"But," she said softly, raising her gaze, "I'll ask you just one thing."
"Go ahead."
"You didn't come back because you made a deal with Dormammu, did you?"
Silence filled the room.
Alaric looked straight into her eyes.
The Ancient One was serious, and her tone left no room for excuses.
"The deal I mentioned," she added, "is not the same as before, you should know what I mean."
"Don't worry," Alaric said calmly but firmly. "I, Alaric, died in the Dark Dimension. Dormammu tortured and killed me a thousand times, again and again, but I would never, ever make a pact with him."
His words echoed through the silence of the temple.
The Ancient One watched him, but there was no falsehood in his voice, only immense exhaustion and unshakable resolve.
Alaric knew exactly what she meant.
By "deal," she was referring to those contracts with demons and dark gods, pacts that always ended in the sacrifice of one's soul.
But he would never sell himself.
Even if it cost him his life, he would never kneel before the darkness.
That was his principle, his essence.
Of course, that didn't stop him from using what he had taken from Dormammu.
The stream of power now flowing to him from the Dark Dimension was vast. He used it to build and expand his Eternal Night World.
But that wasn't a trade.
He hadn't asked Dormammu's permission, nor had he performed any ritual.
He had simply opened the channel by force and started drawing energy without asking and without begging.
In other words, Alaric hadn't signed anything.
He wasn't a servant. He wasn't a follower.
He was a thief who had robbed the Lord of Darkness himself.
That was why he didn't have to pay any price.
On the contrary, it was Dormammu who would now feel the consequences.
For a demon god, such humiliation was unbearable.
Even Vishanti demanded a price for every drop of power they granted, yet Alaric had taken infinite power from Dormammu, completely free.
Who could endure that?
"All right, calm down," said the Ancient One, lifting her hand slightly. "I believe you."
She took a deep breath, finally feeling her heart ease.
As long as Alaric wasn't corrupted, as long as he hadn't signed a pact and remained himself, she could rest easy.
"Good," she continued, "let's leave Dormammu aside for now. There are more important matters we need to discuss."
Alaric shrugged.
"What did I do now? I thought you came just for the Eye of Agamotto."
"What you did?! Have you forgotten?" her tone suddenly rose.
Alaric raised his eyebrows in confusion.
"What now… other than my quick trip to the Dark Dimension?"
"The magical array, Alaric!" she said through clenched teeth.
"Ah… that." He smiled and scratched his head awkwardly. "Yeah, yeah, that one. Well, I think I set it up pretty well."
"Pretty well?" The Ancient One crossed her arms. "So well that I had to open a magic gate just to reach you! You are… magnificent, truly!"
The irony in her voice was unmistakable.
Alaric laughed nervously, trying to ease the tension.
"You know how it is, the temple has to be protected. If someone like Kaecilius tries to sneak in again through a portal, he won't have a chance. I just made sure of that."
"Made sure?" she repeated, narrowing her eyes. "It looks more like you tried to keep me out."
Alaric scratched his neck and muttered under his breath, "No, no, I wouldn't…"
Seeing her stare, he immediately raised his hands.
"Fine, fine, I'll add you to the access permissions, all right?"
The Ancient One looked at him with a faint smile but said nothing.
Alaric sighed, closed his eyes, and was about to activate the spell to unlock the protection circle, but his hand froze midair.
"You know what… I just had an argument, and… I'm really tired," he said wearily. "Can it wait until tomorrow?"
The Ancient One nodded, clearly understanding that he needed rest.
"It can."
"Besides…" she continued.
"And?" Alaric perked up. "What now?"
"Since you know about Kaecilius," she said slowly, "then surely you also know about Strange… and what's going to happen."
Alaric paused for a moment, looking at her.
"I know… a little."
"So," she continued softly, though her tone carried hidden meaning, "is that why you don't want to become the Supreme Sorcerer?"