Lorien hadn't spoken a word from beginning to end.
But the moment he finally did, old Stephen nearly keeled over on the spot.
Because Lorien was right.
The things you didn't dare to do, the moments you let slip away—what's lost is lost forever.
Wanda, listening quietly at his side, stole a soft, tender glance at Lorien. His words had struck her heart.
If she hadn't been brave back then, she wouldn't be with him now.
Both she and Lorien had felt the pull early on. Strictly speaking, they'd both taken the initiative—it was mutual pursuit, a meeting halfway.
Compared to Stephen's story, their love had unfolded with a kind of beauty that couldn't be forced.
Whether it's the woman chasing the man or the man chasing the woman, neither was the best outcome.
It's when both reach for each other—that's the rarest, and the best.
...
Old Stephen sat in silence for a long while, perhaps because he was still catching his breath.
Only after a long pause did he finally speak.
"It's already in the past. Regret won't change anything."
Stephen nodded.
"Regrets are called regrets because they can't be undone."
Old Stephen let out a weary sigh. Then he pushed the items on the table toward Stephen.
"Take a look. Maybe they'll help you."
With that, he turned away, walking toward the edge of the collapsing universe. For the last time, he let himself gaze at the starry sky that had once filled him with dread.
Stephen looked at him, then down at the envelopes on the table.
He knew the moment he finished looking through them would also be the moment Old Stephen chose to vanish along with his universe.
He picked up the photographs and studied them one by one, but he never opened the envelopes.
As he looked through each picture, he murmured to himself,
"The letters… I don't need to read them."
Old Stephen's whole body jolted. He turned, staring at him.
"Because that's your story, not mine."
Stephen continued flipping through the photographs. When he reached the last one, he added,
"I'll write my own story in my own notebook. I won't choose my path based on someone else's."
At those words, Old Stephen pressed his lips together and fell into silence.
He had thought he could at least leave Stephen with one last bit of guidance. But he hadn't expected this.
The truth was, people should live their own lives—not the way Old Stephen's parents had dictated: "I tell you what to study, what road to take, what job to do."
That wasn't living. That was being controlled.
And so, after a moment of silence, Old Stephen suddenly laughed.
"Seems that's the better answer. Then I'll only say this—don't miss your chance again."
"I understand."
Stephen nodded.
Old Stephen lifted his hand. In the next instant, a black-and-red book appeared in his palm.
"The Darkhold."
Stephen recognized it immediately.
But the old man didn't bring it out for Stephen. Instead, he turned to Wanda.
"I'll disappear with this book. And you… you seem to have a way to resist its corruption."
Wanda stayed silent, but her silence was acknowledgment.
Old Stephen didn't elaborate. He only left her with one request.
"If you ever come across another wielder of the Darkhold… do not spare them."
Do not spare them.
It seemed he understood better than anyone—no one who used the Darkhold ever came to a good end.
Wanda's response came naturally.
"Their fate won't be any better than yours."
"....."
True enough.
The three of them had torn open a rift and come here—not to beat him senseless, but to let him leave with dignity.
That was already merciful.
Otherwise, one blast from Wanda, and this entire castle might not even be standing.
After all, in the last world, Wanda's giant scarlet hand had crushed an enemy into pure nothingness.
Compared to that… this was far gentler.
...
By now, Old Stephen knew it was time.
His clouded eyes swept across the cosmos one last time as he prepared to fly into it—like a moth drawn into the flame.
But in the very next moment...
Thud, thud~~~
Two heavy crashes echoed outside the castle.
Everyone looked.
A man and a girl.
One looked exactly like Stephen, and the other was America.
"What?"
Stephen froze at the sight of yet another version of himself.
Another one?
Even old Stephen couldn't help but sigh.
"Today has been more eventful than all my previous decades combined."
...
Below the castle, the young Stephen and America scrambled back to their feet.
They looked up at the two Stephens inside the castle, as well as Lorien and Wanda.
"?"
The young Stephen was stunned.
Two Stephens at once? What the hell was happening?
"Stephen!"
America immediately recognized the normal Stephen. She quickly pointed at the young one.
"The younger one is good, the older one is bad!"
"We have to go help them!"
At her words, the cloak on Young Stephen's back fluttered. He cast a spell and carried America straight up to the castle's second floor.
Now the scene had turned into:
Stephen x3.
Plus Lorien, Wanda, and America—five in total.
The three Stephens exchanged glances.
The normal Stephen—the one Lorien knew—looked around and said,
"Perhaps we should introduce ourselves."
He went first.
"Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme of Kamar-Taj. Threatened by this elder Stephen, I came here seeking him out."
The old Stephen looked at his two younger selves. His lips moved slightly, and he gave only a short reply.
"An old man whose heart has already died."
The young Stephen glanced at everyone, then fixed his eyes on the normal Stephen.
"I'm much like you. But my problem is this—Dormammu has already invaded our world. If we don't stop him, Earth will be consumed by the Dark Dimension."
"?"
Normal Stephen frowned.
"Your threat is still Dormammu?"
"?"
Young Stephen looked just as confused.
"You don't have Dormammu as a threat?"
"We did," Stephen answered. "But we already dealt with him."
"?" Young Stephen was baffled. "After the Ancient One left, how did you deal with him?"
"With this."
Stephen moved his hands across his chest.
In the next moment, the Eye of Agamotto appeared there.
"What—you have one too?"
Young Stephen quickly mimicked him.
Another Eye of Agamotto appeared on his chest as well.
The two of them stared at each other's relic, lost in thought.
There were two of them?
Were both real? Or was one fake, the other genuine?
"Ahem."
The old Stephen coughed. Then he opened his hand.
An empty Eye of Agamotto appeared in his palm.
Both younger Stephens: ?
"What about the gem inside?"
"It was lost long ago—because of my own mistakes."
The three exchanged looks.
Only now did they realize.
So everyone had one?
But why?
How could something so precious exist in every hand?
Both the young and old Stephen were baffled.
Normal Stephen, however, turned his gaze toward Lorien.
Young Stephen noticed it too and looked at Lorien curiously.
He then glanced back at the normal Stephen, his eyes silently asking, What does this mean?
Normal Stephen explained.
"This is my closest friend, Lorien. He's also the godfather of the Sorcerer Supreme in our world. Even the Ancient One addressed him as 'Godfather' before her passing."
"?"
"!"
Both alternate Stephens were stunned.
Such a person existed?
They exchanged glances, confirming silently—he didn't exist in their worlds.
Nor had they ever heard of him in any other universe.
Which could only mean—
"In your world… he's unique."
Young Stephen suddenly understood.
He knew this truth well.
Because every universe had its variables.
And in the past few days, he too had seen figures in other worlds who didn't exist in his own.
And all of them were people of great significance.
"I suppose so."
The thought made Stephen smile.
I have a friend you don't. That gave him a quiet sense of relief—and a touch of smug satisfaction.
But then another question lingered. What was going on with these three Eyes of Agamotto?
Under everyone's expectant gaze, Lorien spoke calmly.
"Is there really anything to doubt? The Multiverse is called the Parallel Universe because 95% of its contents are the same.
If the universe itself can expand infinitely, why can't the Infinity Stones?"
All three Stephens immediately understood.
"So… there's a set of Infinity Stones in every universe?"
Lorien didn't need to answer. Stephen had already spoken the confirmation himself.
That was the reason. The Multiverse was the collective whole—an environment. A Parallel Universe referred to any single one within it. Each universe could be called a parallel universe. That was the meaning of the name.
Once young Stephen grasped this, he looked around at the others.
"Then how do I resolve the Dormammu crisis in my world? It's urgent—he's about to descend."
"If you come with me, you'll see it yourself. A giant eye in the sky, like an abyss."
Stephen's eyes narrowed.
"Then your situation is exactly the same as mine. But I faced it much earlier."
Young Stephen frowned in confusion.
"Then how did you deal with Dormammu using only the Eye of Agamotto?"
Back when the Ancient One was alive, she could suppress Dormammu directly. But at that time, how long had Stephen even been training?
Stephen thought for a moment.
"Perhaps I could go help you?"
Young Stephen hesitated.
"Would the two of us really be enough?"
Dragging in reinforcements only to die together… that would be pointless.
So he asked instead,
"Or do you know anything about the Darkhold or the Book of Vishanti? With either one, I might be able to resolve my universe's crisis."
Stephen: …
Don't even mention the Darkhold. Use it today, and tomorrow you're dead.
And the Book of Vishanti? Forget it. It's impossible to obtain.
How many versions of Stephen died alongside America trying to get it?
The looks on everyone's faces told young Stephen enough.
"There's no way then?" He spread his hands. "What do you expect me to do—go up to Dormammu and say: 'I'm here to bargain'?"
Normal Stephen's lips twitched.
He had actually used the Time Stone to simulate negotiations.
Yeah… He tried it 1,000,001 times. Got instantly killed 1,000,001 times.
Like jumping out of the plane in PUBG 1,000,001 times straight into death.
In the Dark Dimension, Stephen was nothing but a chicken waiting to be plucked.