Hawk went straight to the point.
He didn't circle around. He didn't play games.
And there was no need to.
He didn't even bother telling the Sorcerer Supreme why he wanted the Time Stone.
Again—no need.
From the moment she addressed him directly as "Phoenix," to when she casually dismissed concern over Blackheart's new Hell dimension because Hawk was there…
It was obvious.
The Ancient One had already shown she had no qualms about using the Time Stone, and that she wielded it with mastery.
So—
Hawk trusted that even without him saying it, she already knew exactly what he planned to use it for.
She probably even knew the promise he was prepared to make in return.
After his request, Hawk's mind raced as he sat calmly, waiting for her answer.
After a pause—
The Ancient One nodded. "You may."
Hawk's face lit with joy.
But the next second she added, "Not yet."
Hawk frowned.
"Reason?"
"The wine still lingers in you. Use the Stone now, and it will backfire."
She lifted her teacup and smiled serenely. "Kamar-Taj is beautiful this time of year."
Hawk understood, nodded, and drained his tea.
Beside him, Gwen mirrored his movements, finishing her own cup.
A little later—
Hawk rose, hand in hand with Gwen, and stepped out of the hall.
The monastery stretched before them, a breathtaking blend of Tibetan, Nepalese, and Eastern temple architecture.
The stone structures were ancient, their colors bright against the backdrop of towering snow mountains that seemed to cradle Kamar-Taj in their embrace.
The air was thin and crisp, but thanks to the tea, Gwen—lightly dressed—felt no cold.
Her eyes sparkled as she noticed a training ground paved with blue stone.
Dozens of apprentices in brown robes stood under the guidance of senior yellow-clad magi, practicing Kamar-Taj's most basic spell—sling rings and spark portals.
With every synchronized motion, sparks flew, dazzling arcs of light sketching circles in the air.
The sight left Gwen awestruck.
She turned to Hawk.
"Hawk?"
"Mm."
"Can you use magic?"
"No."
Hawk shook his head, then grinned. "I walk the path of physics."
That was what it meant to be a Saint.
A fighter.
Fist to fist, blood and sweat in the arena.
Magic?
What mage could stand against a punch that carried the weight of ten thousand tons, faster than the speed of light?
Hawk chuckled. "Why ask all of a sudden?"
Gwen shook her head, eyes lingering on the apprentices, then glanced back.
"Do you think I could learn?"
Hawk arched a brow, quickly piecing together her thoughts, and laughed. "If you did, you'd just be offering yourself as a hostage."
Gwen blinked.
Hawk smiled gently, leading her down the stone steps toward the path climbing the snowy peaks, explaining the cosmic energy system of their universe.
In short—ordinary people could never achieve the extraordinary by willpower alone.
Hence the saying: the poor mutate, the rich rely on tech, the gods inherit bloodlines.
Magic was no different.
Did she think one could just pick up a grimoire and self-study?
Not a chance.
Every source of magic came from another dimension.
The Ancient One, for example, drew her power from the Vishanti of the Supreme Dimension through contract.
Dark magicians drew from Dormammu, Hoggoth, and other dimensional lords.
Even witches.
Like Carrie.
She awakened through trauma, yes—but only because her blood carried the lineage of Salem witches. Once she controlled her power, the Salem Dimension would naturally feed her the spells and energy she needed.
Even demons were bound by such bargains.
So, whether mage or witch, talent only set the limit. The true source of their power was the pact of their soul with a dimension.
"That's why—"
Hawk looked at Gwen and smiled warmly. "If you studied magic, you'd be surrendering yourself as a hostage to whatever dimension supplied your power."
Even if the Vishanti showed no malice now, who could say about the future?
He already had one loved one trapped in Hell—his sister.
Never would he risk Gwen too.
Gwen listened, nodding slowly, finally understanding.
Then she paused, blinking.
"Hawk… what about you? Which dimension did you sell your soul to?"
Her mind drifted to the fiery phoenix she'd seen manifest behind him. "The Phoenix Dimension?"
"Ha!"
Hawk burst into laughter before answering seriously. "I don't need to borrow anyone's power. I am the energy. Out there, others will borrow from me."
Forty-seven Bronze Saints.
Twenty-four Silver.
The Twelve Gold.
And one hundred eight stars of the Underworld.
He shook his head, thinking of the future. "Plenty. And you already carry my energy now."
Gwen blinked, puzzled. "Since when?"
"This."
Hawk's eyes fell on the necklace she wore—the Christmas gift he had given her.
Gwen reached for it, pulling it from beneath her collar.
The pendant gleamed in soft pink light, yet beneath it shimmered a scarlet hue—the Andromeda Cloth, alive and intricate.
It was forged alongside his spare Phoenix Cloth, crafted from the first batch of sacred materials.
And though Gwen was no Saint, the Andromeda Cloth would protect her.
Family was reason enough.
Hawk willed it—
And the pendant blazed.
In an instant—
The Andromeda constellation unfolded, chains glinting as the armor disassembled into fragments.
Petal-like plates.
Graceful armguards.
Twin chains of silver light.
The round clasp whirled through the air and clasped itself around Gwen's slim waist. The two chains slithered outward, shimmering like streams of starlight, coiling gently up her arms, links clinking like star-dust colliding.
Shoulder guards descended like wings of light, settling seamlessly into place.
Last came the helm, crowned with abstract wings of the constellation.
It lowered softly over Gwen's head, a veil of stardust across her face, leaving her emerald eyes bright and visible.
When it clicked into place—
A burst of icy-blue cosmos flared outward, sending ripples through the air, stirring her hair as though by an unseen wind.
Gwen froze, speechless.
Hawk only smiled, eyes filled with warmth as he gazed at his fiancée clad in the Andromeda Cloth.
…
(End of Chapter)
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