Tonight's learning task was simple for Tony.
It was a mental healing spell.
For a normal wizard with decent talent, learning it from scratch and barely releasing it would take nearly a month.
Tony learned it in about an hour.
That "hour" referred to the one hour included in the daily study limit.
In reality, less than half a minute passed.
Tony immediately used the newly learned spell on the person who had nearly killed him.
Just like his first time using magic, the spell worked perfectly.
From a certain perspective, magic was also a form of technology.
Just one researched far deeper than what the world normally called technology.
So it could easily achieve things that conventional methods struggled with.
For example, a beginner's mental healing spell could repair a brain that Hydra had brainwashed and modified countless times.
Hydra's brainwashing relied on visual imagery and auditory induction.
Crude. Repetitive. Force-fed.
It blocked parts of a person's original memories and personality, then overlaid new commands.
Like reinstalling an operating system while keeping the old files.
The spell Tony used was equivalent to rolling the system back.
Of course, memories from the brainwashing period still remained.
What was erased was the "mental trauma."
The isolation layer.
The trigger commands.
It was precise.
And intelligent.
"Now I can watch?" Tony asked.
The white light around the unconscious Bucky-signifying a successful spell-slowly turned green.
Tony looked at Morin.
"As you wish."
Morin placed the USB drive on the table.
He even thoughtfully prepared a computer.
Tony wasn't using nano-armor yet.
His suit didn't have the space for a USB port.
He needed the computer.
Tony picked up the USB drive.
But he didn't plug it in right away.
Instead, he looked at Morin.
"You're not going to say anything?"
"This is your business," Morin replied. "Something you'd learn sooner or later. The decision is yours."
He waved his hand, stood up, and walked toward the door.
"If I stay, I'll influence you. That wouldn't be fair."
With that, Morin left the library.
The door closed.
What he could do was give Tony a fair environment.
Put the truth in front of him early.
Let him face it without interference.
It was mainly to settle something unfair in his heart.
Of course, Morin wasn't completely biased.
He also restored Bucky's memory and personality.
That way, whatever happened next would belong to the two of them.
No third party.
Captain America-the most active person in the original story-was still a popsicle.
It wasn't accurate to say Captain America was completely wrong.
If you were in his position, it would be difficult.
Bucky had committed those acts under control.
If he'd done them of his own will, Tony wouldn't even need to act-Bucky would've ended it himself.
But saying Captain America was right was unfair to Tony.
How could the murder of one's parents be brushed aside?
There wasn't even an apology.
Many things weren't black and white.
Different perspectives led to different answers.
In the original story, this became a complete mess.
So Morin created a one-on-one situation in advance.
Fair.
Transparent.
No hidden information.
Whether Tony killed Bucky.
Whether he forgave him.
Whether Bucky accepted it.
Or resisted.
The choice belonged to the people actually involved.
Outside the library, Morin stood at the cliff's edge, watching the moon.
Under his observation-
Tony inserted the USB drive.
Clicked the only video file.
And pressed play.
An old video.
Static.
Noise.
Judging from the angle and fixed position, it was highway surveillance footage.
Tony glanced at the timestamp.
December 16, 1991.
7:01 PM.
A familiar time.
A painfully familiar road.
"JARVIS," Tony said quietly.
"Sir... this is-"
"This is the road where my father's 'car accident' happened," Tony said, stressing the words. "Looks like there are things even I didn't know."
"I will always be by your side, sir," JARVIS replied.
"Let's see who our enemy is."
Tony's eyes were cold.
A car sped into the frame.
Too fast.
Out of control.
It slammed into a roadside tree.
The front was wrecked.
It looked like an accident.
But Tony knew it wasn't.
Even through the blur, he saw the damage was already there before impact.
"Hit by a weapon. Lost directional control," Tony said.
The video continued.
A motorcycle approached.
A burly man dismounted.
Semi-long hair.
A metal left arm.
Even with the mask and poor quality, Tony recognized him.
Not long ago, he'd subdued this man.
Brought him here.
Healed his brainwashing trauma.
Tony was smart.
And even an ordinary person could piece this together.
He'd suspected before pressing play.
But confirmation still hit hard.
His finger rested on the space bar.
Tony closed his eyes and looked up.
Old voices echoed.
Old images resurfaced.
He thought he'd forgotten.
But some memories only stayed dormant.
They returned vividly at moments like this.
A voice came from behind.
"I-"
"Shut up," Tony said softly. "I'm afraid I won't be able to stop myself from killing you."
"I wish I'd died when I fell off the cliff," the man replied.
"Yes," Tony said. "I wish so too."
He pressed the space bar.
The video continued.
Behind him, Bucky Barnes had awakened.
His mechanical arm lay limp.
He leaned weakly against a bookshelf.
He stared at the screen.
His eyes churned with emotion.
He remembered everything.
His identity.
His goals.
And the years of brainwashing.
Those memories clung to him.
Reminding him that he wasn't a fallen hero.
He was a butcher.
His mind was chaos.
The video played on.
...
Half an hour later.
The library door opened.
Tony walked out without his armor.
His expression was blank.
His body trembled faintly.
He stopped beside Morin.
Silent.
Staring down the cliff for a long time.
"Aren't you cold?" Morin asked suddenly.
"Then why didn't you teach me a warming spell?" Tony replied.
The trembling wasn't anger.
He was shivering.
"I thought your physical condition was enough," Morin said, casting a spell. "You were supposed to learn it today anyway. And this also helps you cool down."
"I've cooled down plenty," Tony said. "It's below zero, and I'm in a short-sleeve shirt."
"Vented your anger?" Morin asked.
"Of course not," Tony said. "I just beat him up a bit. He didn't even fight back. Boring."
"Knuckles skinned?"
"Hit his mechanical arm by accident."
Tony glanced at the bruises and blood on his hand.
Action and reaction.
His fist was hard.
His skin wasn't.
Inside the library, Bucky lay near death.
Bruised.
Swollen.
Eyes empty.
He didn't even groan.
If not for the occasional twitch, he'd look like a corpse.
Morin nodded.
Tony had cooled down.
He'd taken off the armor before hitting him.
That said everything.
"To be honest," Morin said, "you're truly kind."
"Thanks," Tony replied. "I surprised myself too."
He looked at the snow-covered scenery.
"Sometimes thinking too fast isn't good. Just as I wanted to kill him, logic told me the one who really deserved to die wasn't him."
"You have the potential to become someone I admire," Morin said. "But I don't want to congratulate you."
"What? An idiot?"
"A hero."
"I'm getting goosebumps."
"Heroes make rational choices," Morin said. "Sometimes without reward. Sometimes they shoulder responsibilities that aren't theirs. They sacrifice things-time, money, and irreplaceable things. I admire them. I respect them. But I'll never be one."
"Everyone chooses their own path," Tony said. "Though hearing that makes me regret it a bit. I should've killed him."
"Someone who regrets?" Morin asked. "Is that still Tony Stark?"
"You're right."
Tony smiled faintly.
"I don't regret my decisions. Because I believe they're right."
"I knew you wouldn't kill him," Morin said. "Still, seeing it makes me feel something."
"...Did you know all this from the beginning?" Tony asked.
"Want to ask why I didn't interfere?" Morin smiled.
"No," Tony shook his head. "Just curious. With power like yours, shouldn't you always do something?"
"If the previous Sorcerer Supreme were here," Morin said, "she'd probably talk about futures and inevitability."
He paused.
"But that doesn't mean she was always like that. The future is countless possibilities. Change one line, and you discard countless others. 'The future' is nonsense. There are only factors."
"And she," Morin added calmly, "is a slacking salted fish."
"Salted fish?" Tony repeated.
"Incredible, right?" Morin said. "But understandable. If you lived one or two hundred years like that, seeing everything, never resting-you'd end up the same."
"Will you become like that?" Tony asked.
"Me? Not now. And later, I'll give the position to you."
Morin smirked.
"Don't worry. There's always a successor. I'm not a salted fish yet. That's why I make changes. The future isn't fixed. As long as you influence it yourself, you'll reach the future you want."
As he spoke, the Eye of Agamotto on his chest floated up.
Green light bloomed.
"What's happening?" Tony asked.
"Someone's in trouble," Morin said. "A Sorcerer Supreme from a parallel universe."
He glanced at Tony.
"Since you're still angry... want to kill some monsters? Practice spells too."
Tony: "???"