The next morning!
Hawk drove Gwen straight to 117A Bleecker Street in Greenwich Village.
In the passenger seat, Gwen wore a fluffy white winter hat, her expression confused as she gazed out at the towering Victorian red-brick building. Strangely, passersby on the street seemed to ignore the place entirely. Turning back to Hawk as he pulled the handbrake, she blinked.
"Aren't we supposed to be going to the airport?"
"This way's faster."
Hawk smiled faintly.
If not for the fact that every time he boarded conventional transport something "accidental" happened, he would've loved to take Gwen on a slow, scenic flight to Nepal.
It was supposed to be a Christmas trip, after all.
But—
Who knew what kind of accident might strike if he boarded a plane this time?
Better safe than sorry.
And honestly—why take the long way when there was a shortcut?
Most importantly, if the Sorcerer Supreme refused to see him, he would know immediately by coming here. That way, he wouldn't waste time flying halfway around the world for nothing.
Hawk thought this as he stepped out of the car, then took Gwen's hand and approached the door of 117A, ignored by all around them. He lifted the iron knocker and struck it.
Clang.
The sound was crisp and clear.
Moments later—
The door creaked open.
Standing there was a middle-aged man with sharp features, dressed in deep yellow robes. His face radiated charisma, yet carried a stern edge.
Kaecilius, guardian of the New York Sanctum.
He didn't look surprised at Hawk's arrival. With a silent glance, he stepped aside and gestured invitingly.
"Thank you."
Hawk gave a nod of gratitude, not at all shocked, and led Gwen inside.
After all, if the Ancient One did not wish to see him, he wouldn't even have made it this far.
Of course—
That didn't mean he couldn't have forced his way in.
The moment Gwen entered, her eyes widened.
Floating candelabras.
Books turning their own pages.
Objects suspended in the air.
The grand hall rose impossibly tall inside compared to its modest exterior. Spiral staircases and relics of magic history filled the chamber.
But that wasn't the most surprising thing.
Kaecilius raised his hands, sparks dancing at his fingertips as he drew a circle of fire. In seconds, a shimmering portal blazed open before them.
Through it lay a hall of quiet serenity, heavy with incense, calm, and zen.
Gwen gasped.
Kaecilius held the portal steady and finally spoke.
"The Sorcerer Supreme is waiting."
"Thank you."
Hawk nodded again, calm-eyed, then turned to Gwen. "Let's go."
She nodded tightly, squeezing his hand.
Together, they stepped through—
And in a single stride, left New York behind, emerging in Kamar-Taj, nestled in the Himalayas near Kathmandu.
The portal closed behind them.
Gwen turned instinctively—and froze.
A figure stood not far away.
Hawk followed her gaze.
A serene woman in a white robe, bald head gleaming, her expression calm and gentle. Yet her eyes… her eyes were ancient, holding boundless wisdom and the weight of centuries, tinged with quiet fatigue.
The Sorcerer Supreme.
Hawk bowed his head respectfully. "Sorcerer Supreme."
"Phoenix."
"…."
At the name, Gwen blinked. She hadn't expected the Sorcerer Supreme to call Hawk by the surname they had only recently discussed. But she said nothing, only watching curiously.
Hawk wasn't surprised. He chuckled softly. "I haven't even decided whether to use that surname yet."
"You will."
The Ancient One smiled lightly, then gestured toward a nearby tea table. "Guests should have tea."
Hawk raised his brow.
"Gladly."
"Please, sit."
"After you, Sorcerer Supreme."
Manners mattered, especially when asking a favor.
The Ancient One smiled, stepping gracefully to the table.
Hawk and Gwen followed, sitting cross-legged opposite her.
The Ancient One moved with fluid elegance, brewing tea with an artistry that seemed more like meditation than habit.
Soon, steaming cups were set before them.
"Please."
"Thank you."
Hawk sipped first, savoring, then drained the cup. "Excellent tea."
"Delicious," Gwen echoed, eyes shining. It was the best she had ever tasted.
The Ancient One smiled. "Picked just last month from the garden. Best for those who've overindulged in drink. Clears the head. Purges toxins."
Gwen blinked.
Hawk's eyes narrowed, turning to her. "You mean… Mephisto's wine?"
Gwen tensed, glancing at him in alarm. Hawk took her hand, calming her.
Frowning, he remembered the drinks Mephisto had offered him both in Hell's tavern and in New York. "His wine was powerful—I could feel my soul strengthen."
The Ancient One's smile was faint. "Hell's soul-wine does indeed fortify the spirit. But before it's fully absorbed, the drinker's soul is tethered to Hell. That's how Mephisto once lured Odin himself into his domain."
Hawk stiffened.
So that was it.
The wine was real, its effects undeniable. But its hidden hook meant that if Hawk suffered an accident before fully absorbing it, even if he resurrected, his soul would be dragged straight to Hell.
And there—Mephisto ruled.
He might one day surpass Odin. But for now? Even a dying Odin could crush him.
That was why Odin had been trapped in Hell once.
And if Hawk fell for the same trick?
It wouldn't be a visit. It would be a one-way trip.
Realization made him laugh bitterly. "Demons. Not a single word of theirs can be trusted."
The Ancient One refilled their cups, meeting Hawk's gaze calmly. "But you didn't fall for it, did you?"
"I knew he wanted my soul. I just didn't know how. Now I do."
Hawk shook his head, lifting the cup again. As he drank, Gwen suddenly slid her own tea toward him.
He paused, about to take it—
The Ancient One smiled gently. "Her tea isn't yours."
Gwen blinked, glancing between her cup and the pot. "Didn't they come from the same pot?"
The Ancient One shook her head. "A cup poured one moment apart is a different thing entirely, in the language of time."
Gwen tilted her head, half understanding, half mystified.
Hawk asked plainly, "So… drinking your tea cancels out Mephisto's wine?"
The Ancient One's answer was simple.
"Tea dispels wine."
Hawk exhaled, enlightened. No need to press further. Instead, he changed the subject, curious. "But… weren't you worried Blackheart might actually succeed in forging a new Hell dimension?"
The Ancient One settled back in her seat, still perfectly calm.
"You've already dealt with him, haven't you?"
"…Fair point."
Hawk could only nod, at a loss for words.
Best not to accuse her of "cheating." After all, what if later she accused him of the same when he asked to borrow the Time Stone?
Do unto others…
So Hawk chose directness. Meeting her gaze, he said:
"Sorcerer Supreme, I'd like to borrow the Time Stone."
The Ancient One: "..."
(End of Chapter)
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