Soren Macaluso stood in silence, his expression unreadable as Stephen Strange clutched the healed hands that moments ago had been nothing but broken shakers.
The man before him trembled, eyes flickering between gratitude and ambition.
"Doctor Macaluso… about what you said earlier~about superheroes. I'd still like to hear more. Maybe… maybe there's something I can—"
Soren's expression soured.
He didn't raise his voice. "Mr. Strange."
"You made your choice. You chose. That choice was yours to make, and I honored it."
His next words were clipped, laced with a subtle disappointment that stung far worse than anger.
"You should understand something, when you are given two paths and choose one, do not return begging for the fruits of the other."
Shame flared in Strange's chest.
"I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be ungrateful. I was only…"
He fumbled through his coat, hands shaking slightly despite their newfound perfection. He produced a black and gold bank card, his last financial asset.
"This is all my savings. I want to repay you. Please~"
But Soren had already raised his hand.
A gentle wave. A flare of blue light.
Strange vanished in a ripple of space and silence, transported out of the chamber without another word.
Outside Everlife Medical Center, Strange stumbled forward, appearing in front of the building he'd dreamed of entering for weeks.
Snow drifted lightly across the courtyard, and the long line of hopeful patients murmured as they watched him reappear.
He stared at his hands. He clenched his fists. They felt strong, invincible.
But somewhere inside… a hollow ache settled in.
He had won back his most prized possession. But something told him he'd just lost something far greater.
Turning on his heel, Strange walked away. Half triumphant, half tormented.
For Soren, however, it was just another ripple in the ever-expanding ocean of fate.
Still, Strange's visit had left a problem.
Not in the man's choice, but in the reminder of what was to come. The Eye of Agamotto. The Time Stone. Dormammu. The Sorcerer Supreme.
All those future events, now cracked like fractured glass because of one altered choice.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes closing for a moment.
"Kamar-Taj…"
A sanctuary of hidden knowledge, tucked deep in the Himalayas. A place where mortals learned to bend the laws of reality and defend the Earth from the unseen.
It called to him now.
Magicians, he mused. Magicians were sort of powerful.
He stood from his chair, his coat wiped behind him as he crossed the quiet halls of Everlife Medical Center.
By dawn, the center would be silent once again.
The Next Morning
A simple wooden sign now stood before the front doors of the Everlife Medical Center...
Traveling Abroad. Return Date: Unknown.
Despair rippled through the gathered crowd. Some wept. Others cursed the heavens.
But those who had come before those who had been healed bowed their heads in quiet respect.
They knew the Doctor's comings and goings were like the wind…
Above the Clouds, Beyond the World
On the deathly slopes of Mount Everest, where the air was thin and unforgiving, a single figure stood against the tundra of nature.
Soren Macaluso.
His breath misted the frozen air, though he showed no signs of fatigue.
His body, enhanced beyond normal human limits, moved through blizzards like a ghost, his heavy mountain bag slung over one shoulder.
Snowstorm after snowstorm raged around him. The shrieking winds howled like dying spirits, clawing at his hair.
His boots crunched against ice thousands of years old.
And finally, he reached the… peak.
The Roof of the World.
All was silent.
The world below was but a dream, distant cities, wars, politics, heroes and villains.
Up here, none of it mattered.
Soren stood on the summit, eyes closed, allowing the gale to tear past him.
Unfortunately.
He wasn't there for the view.
"To see the mountain from the mountain's peak... is to know the truth of insignificance."
He was not on a tourist's whim or a challenge for the sake of a thrill.
This was a waypoint.
Beyond Everest, hidden in whispers and ancient magic, lay his true destination, Kamar-Taj.
Soren had already teleported into the borders of China. But from there, he chose to climb Everest, ascending the world's most spiritual heights.
He could have arrived in seconds, but some paths demand to be walked.
For two days he traveled, scaling the north face and descending along a rarely used southern pass. He paused only when he felt the faintest ripple in space.
That ripple eventually led him below the Himalayas, into the heart of Nepal, a country steeped in religion, simplicity, and reverence.
The streets of Kathmandu buzzed with life: incense in the air, monks in saffron robes, prayer wheels spinning in sacred rhythm.
Here, faith was visible in every corner.
Within the energy of the city, a certain vibration pulled at him, like the last note of a forgotten song.
A place, folded between dimensions, quietly humming with power.
A tear in space.
Without hesitation, Soren stepped through it.
Suddenly, the noise of the city vanished.
Before him lay a courtyard of another world, birds chirping among cherry blossoms, scrollwork pavilions with gilded roofs, and bamboo groves whispering secrets in the breeze.
The air smelled of sandalwood and ancient ink, Soren simply stared, entranced.
This... is Kamar-Taj.
"Who are you?!"
His awe lasted only that moment.
In an instant, several figures materialized around him, clad in layered robes and armed with glowing mandalas of protective energy.
Soren turned to face them, offering no resistance, only a smile.
"I'm the Doctor."
"I mean no harm, I arrived by accident. This... must be the legendary Kamar-Taj?"
The magicians exchanged glances. None of them sensed fear from him. In fact, the stranger seemed more curious than anything.
The crowd stirred as a tall man stepped forward, his presence commanding.
Deep brown skin, a thick cloak draped over strong shoulders, and the practiced poise of someone used to leading warriors.
Mordo.
"Stand down."
"The Ancient One has asked to see this man."
At his words, the other magicians lowered their hands and stepped aside without hesitation.
Mordo nodded toward Soren. "Come with me."
As they walked through the compound, Soren's eyes wandered across the architecture.
Wooden lattices, aged stone pathways, murals depicting battles between light and shadow, all of it steeped in the energy of forgotten centuries.
It didn't feel like a fortress.
More like memory made real.
"You seem… quite composed." Mordo said after a moment.
"Most who arrive here are disoriented. Or terrified."
"I don't get lost." Soren replied with a faint grin.
"Only redirected."
Mordo studied him closely. "And you know of the Ancient One by name?"
Soren gave no answer, only a knowing smile.
Mordo said no more, though his curiosity clearly deepened. They reached an elegant courtyard shaded by trees, with the soft trickle of a fountain nearby. The scent of jasmine and old paper drifted gently in the air.
At its center sat a figure, serene above all else.
Ancient One.
Clad in a flowing yellow robe, her presence was as still and commanding as a mountain. She was not old, nor young. She simply was bald.
Mordo bowed respectfully. "Ancient One, this is the guest you requested." He glanced once more at Soren and departed quietly.
Soren stepped forward, smiling softly. "Hello, Ancient One."
She regarded him for a long moment, eyes the color of calm seas.
Without a word, she poured tea into a pair of simple cups and gestured for him to sit.
The tea was fragrant. Deep and earthy. Soren took the cup in both hands and sipped.
"You used spatial magic to enter Kamar-Taj. That's beyond most people on Earth. Especially without triggering any of our defenses."
"I'm not here to fight." Soren set the cup down with care.
"Then why are you here?"
꧁𓊈𒆜༺⚜༻𒆜𓊉꧂
Fellow Phantoms and aspiring Phantoms to be, if you seek to access advanced parts of this story procced to my shadowy realm of p@treon.
PhantomDream