The zealot trapped within the shimmering prison of reversed time watched helplessly as her fellow disciples and Master Kaecilius battled the Masters of the Mystic Arts. She thrashed against the temporal barrier, desperate to rejoin the fight.
A clawed hand shot through the distortion from behind, seizing her by the throat and yanking her free.
The woman struggled against her captor's iron grip, gasping for air. The hand shifted, elongating into something far more sinister—a writhing appendage that coiled around her entire body like a constrictor.
Her head was wrenched back, and she found herself staring into a face she recognized all too well.
"So glad I crashed this little party," Karness Muur said, his grin utterly devoid of warmth.
Even as time continued its backward flow around them, the ancient Sith Lord stood in a pocket of perfect stillness—a space where nothing had happened and nothing required correction.
He drew the zealot closer with inexorable strength. She fought against the binding tentacles with everything she had, but it was futile.
She opened her mouth to scream for Kaecilius, for her fellow zealots to save her—only to have another appendage wrap around her face, sealing her mouth shut.
"Now then," Muur murmured, holding the terrified woman close, drinking in her wide-eyed fear. "Become part of my collective."
The moment he began drawing upon her connection to the Dark Dimension, everything changed.
Power flooded into him—raw, ancient, and utterly intoxicating.
The ancient Sith Lord gasped, throwing his head back as his eyes widened to the size of saucers.
In his mind's eye, he saw it: a realm of endless darkness, eternal suffering, and infinite oblivion stretching beyond comprehension.
At the center of it all loomed a being of unimaginable power—something so vast that his mind could barely process its existence.
He had tasted a fraction of this strength from his former master, had channeled it through the rituals that bound his spirit to flesh once more. But this... this was different. This was direct. Pure.
It felt like touching the very apex of the dark side itself.
And he wanted—no, needed—more.
Muur pulled harder, laughing as the Dark Dimension's power surged through every cell of his reanimated body—
"Who are you to steal power that does not belong to you?"
The Sith Lord froze at the sound of that disembodied voice.
His vision shifted. The darkness coalesced into a massive entity with blazing purple and black eyes that filled his entire field of vision.
Muur could only stare back with a mixture of wonder and hunger. "Dormammu."
"How dare you attempt to take what is mine." The ruler of the Dark Dimension's voice rumbled through the very fabric of reality.
"Like the Sorcerer Supreme does?" Muur shot back with savage sarcasm. "Like your own followers? I'm simply—"
"Nothing here belongs to you, foolish Sith Lord."
"So you know of me and my kind." A smile crept across Muur's corrupted features.
"Millennia ago, your kind attempted to claim my power."
That actually surprised the ancient Sith for a moment. Then his malevolent grin returned, wider than before.
"Then I shall be the first to succeed where they failed."
He heard the Conqueror of Worlds laugh—a sound like countless voices layered atop one another, discordant and terrible.
"Like all your foolish, weak brethren before and after you—an insect seeking to control what it cannot comprehend." Dormammu's laughter intensified. "But come then. Let us see you try."
"Challenge accepted."
He couldn't see it, but he felt Dormammu's smile—and instantly, an explosion of ecstasy tore through his entire being.
Muur threw his head back, gasping and then laughing with pure, manic joy as true power coursed through every fiber of his existence.
"Yes! Yes! YES!"
Then his expression twisted into something else entirely.
The Sith Lord began shaking uncontrollably, sweat pouring down his face as he panted for breath.
This... this was...
No. No, this wasn't—
"NO! STOP!"
While he was distracted, writhing in agony, Muur felt searing pain lance through his arm. He looked down to see the limb bearing his ancient amulet severed cleanly at the shoulder.
The culprit stood before him, lightsaber blazing green.
"I can feel your pathetic presence," Celeste Morne snarled.
She released the amulet, letting it clatter to the ground, and raised her lightsaber high above her head.
Her free hand began to glow. Runes materialized in the air around her, ancient sigils pulsing with energy that flowed directly into her blade. The green plasma became something more—something that hummed with the combined might of the Force and mystic arts.
Gathering all her strength, Celeste let out a thunderous battle cry and brought her lightsaber down in a devastating arc, cleaving the Muur Talisman in two.
The backlash was immediate.
Muur felt something break inside him—something fundamental to his very existence. The connection between his spirit and the amulet that had sustained him for millennia suddenly severed.
A grotesque tentacle erupted from his burning shoulder stump, lashing out to grab his severed limb. It retreated back into his body just before Celeste could destroy it with her blade.
"STAY BACK!" Muur screamed, unleashing a concussive wave of power that sent the Jedi Shadow flying. "My soul! My soul is burning!"
Celeste managed to right herself mid-flight, landing in a crouch. She looked up just in time to witness something truly horrifying.
The left side of Muur's face began to peel away, skin sloughing off in strips to reveal what lay beneath. Where Dormammu's zealots bore purple-black markings around their eyes, Muur's exposed flesh was a sickly, pulsating red—constantly bleeding, constantly writhing as two different forms of dark power warred within him.
She could only watch as the ancient Sith Lord continued to scream, his body convulsing violently. Without the Talisman to anchor him, his spirit form was destabilizing, while Dormammu's power continued to burn through him like acid.
Seeing her greatest opportunity, Celeste surged forward to end her ancient tormentor once and for all.
A massive piece of debris, caught in the time reversal, slammed into her side and sent her crashing into a nearby building.
By the time she recovered, gasping and disoriented, Muur had already conjured a shimmering portal and vanished through it.
"NO!" Celeste roared, slamming her fist against the wall hard enough to crack the stone.
Internally, she raged at herself. How could I let him escape? After all these centuries, how?!
As more of the cityscape continued repairing itself under Doctor Strange's time spell, the massive rift to the Dark Dimension began to recede. Yet to anyone paying close attention, the portal seemed to be actively fighting the reversal.
Near where the Winter Soldier stood, a pile of rubble suddenly flew upward, revealing—
"Wong," Bucky breathed in horror.
The Master of the Mystic Arts was impaled on a jagged metal beam, his eyes vacant. Then, as the time reversal continued, he blinked. The fatal wound reversed. He was pulled backward, restored to his position moments before death.
The spell released him, and Wong stumbled forward, very much alive.
He quickly stepped away from the temporal distortion and looked around in shock, his hands instinctively checking his chest where the wound had been.
A hand landed on his shoulder. Wong turned to find Bucky beside him, the former assassin's smile one of profound relief. Doctor Strange walked past them both, offering Wong a small, knowing smile.
"Breaking the natural laws," Strange said. "I know."
Wong glanced back at the twisted metal that would have killed him and shook his head. "Well, don't stop now."
The scattered defenders quickly regrouped before the rapidly reconstructing Sanctum.
"Once the Sanctum is restored, they'll attack again," Doctor Strange said immediately.
"Not to mention Kaecilius," Bucky added, scanning the area. "He died in that explosion."
"We'll have to hold the line," Wong stated firmly.
They moved forward—but failed to notice Kaecilius himself, freed from the makeshift prison that had held him during the time reversal.
The master zealot rose to his feet, gathering every ounce of mystical energy he could summon into his hands. When he'd reached his limit, he slammed both palms into the concrete street.
A shockwave rippled outward, knocking most of the defenders off their feet.
Among them was Doctor Strange. As he hit the ground hard, his concentration shattered—and the time spell abruptly ended.
Everything around them suddenly froze. The reconstruction halted mid-progress. Debris hung suspended in the air. Only the zealots and their opponents remained capable of movement.
"Get up!" Mordo barked, already on his feet. "Get up and fight!"
Doctor Strange looked around, assessing the situation. The others were rising, readying themselves to continue defending their world.
Ghost Rider was the first to stand at full height, hellfire crackling around his skull.
While Johnny was confident his allies could defeat the zealots—even with their Dark Dimension-granted powers—he knew with absolute certainty that none of them stood a chance against Dormammu himself.
Kaecilius strode forward with casual arrogance.
"You cannot fight the inevitable," he said simply.
The rogue master stared past them all at the approaching doom of the Dark Dimension's full manifestation.
"Isn't it beautiful?" Kaecilius' voice carried an almost religious reverence. "A world beyond time. Beyond death."
That's when it hit Doctor Strange—the answer he'd been searching for.
"Beyond time..." he muttered under his breath, the plan crystallizing in his mind with perfect clarity.
He knew the warnings about manipulating time. He understood the dangers. But at this point, none of that mattered. If he was going to beat the being behind all this, he'd have to break every rule in the book.
Without warning, Doctor Strange spun on his heel and launched himself into the air, flying at full speed directly toward the Dark Dimension portal.
"Strange?!" several voices shouted after him as he vanished into the swirling darkness.
Kaecilius smirked. "And there he goes. Even Strange abandons you now, succumbing to Dormammu's power."
Meanwhile...
Doctor Strange hurtled through the endless expanse of Dormammu's realm.
All around him floated dark, twisted worlds and other unspeakable things that had been absorbed into the dimensional conqueror's collective consciousness.
Strange soon touched down on one of the countless entities drifting through the Dark Dimension and raised his left arm.
Focusing his will on the green gem housed within the Eye of Agamotto, he activated a spell he was confident would prove... interesting to the primordial entity that ruled here.
Green runes encircled his arm as he looked around, waiting for Dormammu to notice his intrusion.
It didn't take long.
Doctor Strange turned to find a massive violet eye staring directly at him.
The eye pulled back, revealing Dormammu in all his terrible size and power.
Undeterred, Strange levitated to another floating fragment before the entity. He glanced briefly at his arm to confirm the spell had taken hold, then faced the Devourer of Worlds.
"Dormammu," Doctor Strange said, floating forward to meet the interdimensional creature's gaze with unflinching determination. "I've come to bargain."
"You've come to die," Dormammu thundered. "Your world is now mine. Like all the others."
Strange knew what was coming and raised his hands defensively as a barrage of massive, razor-sharp debris launched toward him.
He deflected several pieces with shields of golden energy, dodged others—until Dormammu opened his enormous maw and unleashed a beam of pure destructive power.
Strange managed to erect a barrier, but it was too much. Far too much.
Stephen grunted in pain as the beam overwhelmed his defenses.
Then he was atomized, disintegrated into nothingness.