Kamar-Taj, Bronze Hall.
The senior Sorcerers of Kamar-Taj filed out of the hall one by one.
The Dimensional Invasion War had ended, and the immediate aftermath required a meeting with the Supreme Sorcerer to assess the damage and outline future strategies.
Warnings had been given, rewards and punishments dispensed.
Despite the war's apparent scale, the actual damage was largely contained to the Hong Kong Temple, sparing Kamar-Taj from widespread devastation—a small mercy amidst the chaos.
Lockhart approached the front of the hall, stopping a short distance from the Ancient One.
He stood silently, waiting for her to speak. Her summons, he suspected, might clarify several lingering questions.
As the last of the Sorcerers exited, the Ancient One rested her hand on the armrest of her chair. The massive bronze doors groaned shut with a resounding clang, sealing the chamber.
Now, only Lockhart and the Supreme Sorcerer remained.
The Ancient One sat in silence, her expression unreadable. Lockhart kept his head slightly bowed, the weight of the quiet pressing down on him.
Sensing the rising tension, the Ancient One's lips curled into a faint, amused smile.
Lockhart, aware of the oppressive stillness, finally broke the silence.
"Supreme Sorcerer," he began, his tone cautious, "is there something you require of me?"
The Ancient One's smile deepened. "At the moment, there is nothing pressing that I need you to do," she said gently. "If the need arises, you'll be the first to know."
Her gaze sharpened slightly as she leaned forward. "For now, I am more curious to hear your thoughts. Tell me, Lockhart, what do you make of this dimensional invasion?"
Lockhart hesitated briefly, pondering the intent behind her question. After a moment, he spoke carefully.
"Supreme Sorcerer, while I lack the perspective of those who have experienced Kamar-Taj's past battles, I found this invasion to be… somewhat anticlimactic."
The Ancient One raised an eyebrow, intrigue flickering across her face. "Anticlimactic? Explain."
Lockhart nodded, organizing his thoughts.
"This invasion appeared monumental—an all-hands effort from Kamar-Taj. Yet, if you look closely, something feels off."
He paused, measuring his words.
"While there were casualties among the fallen Sorcerers and some losses at the Hong Kong Temple, beyond that, the damage was minimal. Not a single Sorcerer suffered more than minor injuries."
He glanced at the Ancient One for confirmation.
"Even with a battle of this scale, the impact on Kamar-Taj as a whole was negligible. Surely that suggests something deeper."
The Ancient One tilted her head, her expression contemplative. "A novel perspective, Lockhart. Please, continue."
Encouraged, Lockhart pressed on.
"Supreme Sorcerer, wars of this magnitude typically come with significant losses. For us to emerge relatively unscathed suggests only two possibilities."
"Which are?" the Ancient One asked, her voice calm but curious.
Lockhart's tone grew firm. "Either Kamar-Taj is vastly more powerful than the Dimension Demon Gods, or…"
He paused deliberately.
"Or this invasion was part of a larger conspiracy."
The Ancient One regarded him with a faint, knowing smile.
"And which do you believe it to be?" she asked.
Lockhart didn't answer directly. Instead, he countered with a question.
"Supreme Sorcerer, may I ask—how difficult was your battle with the seven dimensional demons?"
The Ancient One's expression remained unreadable. "What would you infer from my answer?"
Lockhart didn't hesitate.
"If you defeated them effortlessly, then their restraint suggests fear—fear of provoking Kamar-Taj's true strength."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"But if victory came with difficulty, then their retreat only confirms a larger scheme at play."
The Ancient One chuckled softly, a glimmer of approval in her eyes.
"Insightful, Lockhart. Your reasoning is sound."
She leaned back slightly in her chair, the faint smile lingering on her lips.
"Lockhart," she said, her tone shifting, "do you know the most critical qualification for inheriting the mantle of Supreme Sorcerer?"
The question caught him off guard, and he hesitated before shaking his head.
"Excluding knowledge and strength," the Ancient One explained, "the most crucial factor is the ability to channel the power of time and wield the Eye of Agamotto."
She let her words sink in before continuing.
"This criterion is absolute and cannot be circumvented."
Lockhart remained silent, unsure where this revelation was leading.
The Ancient One observed him thoughtfully before speaking again.
"I have spent many years searching for someone who can bear the Eye of Agamotto."
She paused, her gaze steady.
"You are one such candidate. Not long ago, I discovered another."
Lockhart's heart skipped a beat. He immediately realized who she was referring to.
Doctor Strange.
The Ancient One's tone turned wistful. "He will come to Kamar-Taj soon. His magical potential is extraordinary—a truly remarkable talent."
She studied Lockhart carefully. "I believe it will benefit you to meet him when the time comes."
Lockhart frowned slightly, unsure of the Ancient One's intent, but he nodded nonetheless.
"I understand," he said simply.
The Ancient One, seated with an air of timeless serenity, rested her hand lightly on the armrest of her chair. She made no immediate move to address him, her gaze steady but unreadable.
Lockhart waited in respectful silence, his mind racing with unanswered questions.
The atmosphere grew heavier with each passing second, the quiet pressing down like an invisible weight.
Then came a sound.
Clatter, clatter, clatter.
The rhythmic tapping of the Ancient One's fingers on the armrest broke the silence. The faint, deliberate sound matched the beating of Lockhart's heart, each tap resonating with an almost supernatural precision.
"Lockhart," the Ancient One's voice cut through the tension, smooth yet piercing. "Do you have any thoughts… about the position of Sorcerer Supreme?"
The question struck Lockhart like a thunderbolt.
He hesitated, caught off guard. "Sorcerer Supreme… I—"
The Ancient One smiled faintly, her expression enigmatic. "Let us speak plainly, Lockhart. Do you aspire to the mantle of Sorcerer Supreme?"
Lockhart's mind reeled. The question seemed straightforward, but he sensed layers of meaning beneath it.
"Master," he replied carefully, "the position of Sorcerer Supreme is an honor, but also a burden. It demands unparalleled wisdom, strength, and responsibility. I would not take such a role lightly."
The Ancient One's gaze lingered on him, her smile deepening.
"Good," she said simply, leaning back in her chair.
The conversation ended there, but the unspoken implications hung in the air.
The Ancient One rose from her seat, signaling that their discussion was concluded. Lockhart bowed respectfully and turned to leave.
Later that evening…
In a lively restaurant within the bustling entertainment district, the Avengers and their allies gathered for an informal celebration.
The war was over, and the streets of New York had returned to an uneasy peace. For now, laughter and camaraderie replaced tension and fear.
"To victory!" Thor bellowed, raising a tankard of mead high into the air.
"Cheers!" the others echoed, their glasses clinking together.
At the head of the table, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, and Thor exchanged jokes and stories, their spirits lifted by the presence of friends.
Lockhart sat a little apart, observing the scene with a quiet smile. Beside him, Professor Snape shifted uncomfortably, a glass of sake untouched in his hand.
"How are you holding up, Snape?" Lockhart asked, raising his own glass.
Snape sighed, glancing at the merrymaking around them. "Lockhart, I've always found alcohol… distasteful. And this," he gestured vaguely at the revelers, "is far too rowdy for my tastes."
Lockhart chuckled. "Come now, Snape. Even wizards need to unwind."
Snape arched an eyebrow but said nothing, sipping his sake reluctantly.
Lockhart clinked glasses with him, grinning. "You'll get used to it. And who knows? You might even enjoy yourself."
"I doubt it," Snape muttered, though his tone lacked its usual bite.
As the night wore on, Lockhart made his rounds, speaking with each of the gathered heroes.
First, he approached Thor, who was deep in conversation with Steve.
"Thor," Lockhart began, raising his glass, "a toast to you. Without your strength, this war might have turned out very differently."
Thor laughed heartily, clapping Lockhart on the shoulder. "And to you, Lockhart! If not for your cunning and power, Loki's plans might have succeeded."
Lockhart smiled modestly. "Speaking of Loki, when will you be returning to Asgard?"
Thor tilted his head thoughtfully. "In a few days, I think. Now that the Cosmic Cube is secure, I must report to my father."
"Good," Lockhart said, his tone light. "And while you're there, I have a proposal. The Vientiane World would like to establish a long-distance teleportation array with Asgard. It could facilitate trade and cultural exchange between our people."
Thor's eyes lit up. "An excellent idea! I'll speak to my father about it."
Lockhart then approached Tony Stark, who was teasing Bruce about the Hulk's "incredible physique."
"Tony," Lockhart interjected, "if you're so impressed, I can brew a potion to give you the same green glow."
Tony smirked. "Tempting, but I think I'll pass. I prefer my shade of genius billionaire."
Lowering his voice, he added, "But if you've got anything to keep a man… energized, I wouldn't say no."
Lockhart rolled his eyes. "I'll see what I can do. But don't overdo it—Pepper won't be pleased."
As the festivities continued, Lockhart's focus remained on fostering bonds.
These heroes, after all, were destined to shape the Marvel world's future.
Elsewhere…
In a dim underground chamber, rows of torches flared to life, casting flickering shadows across the walls.
A dozen Sorcerers stood in a circle, their faces tense.
At the center, David, holding a dark yellow sphere of pulsing energy, addressed the group.
"Masters," he began, his voice ringing with fervor, "though we failed to claim the secret realm, we have another chance."
He raised the orb high, its glow illuminating his determined expression.
"The Sorcerer Supreme is gravely injured. Now is our moment to strike."
His words stirred the Sorcerers, and a murmur of agreement rippled through the group.
David's eyes burned with zeal.
"Let us seize the secret realm, slay the Sorcerer Supreme, and take our rightful place in Kamar-Taj!"
The Sorcerers roared their approval, their cries echoing in the chamber.
David smirked, his grip tightening on the orb.
"Together, we shall break the Vishanti's Contract and master the forbidden arts of Chaos Magic!"
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