Chapter 15: Opening Salvo
Ikiji let out an agonizing yell as the lightning collided with his backside. The force of the spell's impact sent him skidding to the floor, momentarily stunning him as his forehead hit the ground. Shakily picking himself up, Ikiji turned his head to assess the damage: his golden and brown robes were completely singed off his backside and his skin was blistered and burnt, smoking slightly from the heat of Strange's furious bolt of energy.
Even though I managed to plate my entire backside under a thick layer of bone at the last second, his lightning still seared right through it! Ikiji thought incredulously, wincing in pain as he turned to face Strange. Damn him...!
Strange was kneeling over Izuku's bloodied body, his fingers pressed against the boy's neck and checking for a pulse. A wave of relief washed over the man's visage, though it was short-lived. The indomitable fury returned with a vengeance and Strange hovered ominously in the air before Ikiji. His scarred hands pulsed with what had to be powerful eldritch energies.
The deadly focus in Strange's eyes made it absolutely clear: there was no more room for words, no monologues to be had, no rights to be read, no pleas to be heard. Izuku's sprawled, dazed body on the ground was all the motivation Strange needed.
"Feel the searing sagacity of the Seven Suns of Cinnibus...!" Strange placed his fingers together before slamming them to the ground. Streams of crimson heat and plasma violently erupted from the stone tiles and spiraled straight towards Ikiji.
No...! Ikiji defiantly steeled himself as he flexed his hands to mount a defense. I've come too far to fall now!
Yanking his hands up, Ikiji caused the ground between him and Strange to bend upward, directly in the path of Strange's incinerating spell. To Ikiji's shock, the rushing bolt of plasma collided with the curved ground and ricocheted right off. Strange curved his fingers, as if guiding the path of the spell, as it bounded off the room's walls, floor, and ceiling. The plasma blast suddenly bounded to the wall behind Ikiji and he could see where its trajectory would lead to next.
No time...! Ikiji raised his right arm in front of his body to shield himself as best he could. "Ivory Aegis!" Ikiji shouted as the skin of his arm, shoulder, and upper torso sprouted thick, whitened layers of bone.
The rushing plasma enveloped its target and Ikiji let out a gut wrenching scream as Strange's mystical might burned straight through the bone plating on his arm and shoulder—his Ivory Aegis, his strongest defensive technique. The blast propelled Ikiji across the room and the young man thrashed in agony as the spell's fizzling embers dug into his skin, littering his arm with horrific third-degree burns that exposed his body's shifting flesh and bone.
Strange gave him little time to further inspect his injuries. In the span of a single blink, Ikiji found himself waylaid by a dozen copies of the Sorcerer Supreme, each one ensnaring a portion of his body with the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak.
The Images of Ikonn...! Ikiji recalled that there was such a spell that could allow a Master of the Mystic Arts to create temporary mystical duplicates of themselves to stymie an adversary.
His body thoroughly encased in a thick cocoon of crimson bands, Strange and his duplicates heaved and lifted Ikiji into the air before slamming him against the ceiling and ground repeatedly.
Ikiji grunted in pain after the seventh pummel, gritting his teeth in frustration. With his hands bound by his side, he could not manipulate magic or the space around him to his advantage. But he still had his Quirk, he realized.
Tightening his focus and digging in deep, Ikiji could feel every bone in his body rattle, the muscles and tissues layered above them instinctively parting for the coming eruption.
Bone Bloom...! Ikiji grunted as dozens of pointed bone spikes exploded out from all over his body, piercing through the crimson bands restricting his movement. His body adopted a devilish appearance as he tried wrenching himself free, with bone spurs jutting out from his cheeks and two long spikes emanating from his forehead, emulating horns almost.
Strange remained undeterred, marshaling his strength and whirling the still entangled zealot around the room with one hand and conjuring an orb of fire with the other. Tossing the orb onto the ground, Strange gave a yell as he chucked Ikiji toward it, causing it to burst into a raging conflagration upon impact.
Blood flowed from Ikiji's mouth as the fire ran its course, burning the crimson bands off and roasting his torso beneath them. The tips of his bony protrusions cracked and broke when he was slammed into the ground one final time.
Master Kaecilius...! Ikiji's mind raced as the fire obscured his sight, recalling the memory of his master succumbing to a fiery vortex. Am I going to die here? Death isn't how I wanted to free myself from suffering...! All For One! Were the last five years not enough!? I don't want to die...!
A pounding of the head. A shrill ringing in the ears. A blurriness of the eyes that almost mirrored inebriation. Izuku Midoriya groaned and coughed his airways clear as he slowly but surely regained his senses.
What happened? Izuku wondered as he managed to roll himself over on his stomach. Something fluid ran down his face as he absentmindedly raised his forearm to wipe it off. Blood? Is that...my blood?
Now he could remember. He opposed Ikiji...and was thoroughly thrashed by the zealot's superior magic skills and Quirk for daring to do so.
The room lit up with the brilliant orange and yellow hues of a raging inferno, catching Izuku's attention as the boy looked over toward the commotion. His eyes widened at the sight: Strange, his sensei, thoroughly dominating Ikiji and pummeling him silly with his sorcery, scorching him with merciless fire. The rage being exuded by Strange was...frightening, to say the least.
Master Strange—his rage is like a cold yet righteous fury, Zelma's words echoed in his brain.
His judgment against those that would abuse dark magic or threaten Kamar-Taj...is swift and oftentimes merciless, Casey's voice also piped in, shaking Izuku to his core.
"S-Sensei!" Izuku yelled out as he forced himself to his hands and knees, resisting the urge to collapse where he was.
Doctor Strange turned his eyes toward Izuku's struggling form before leaning back to dodge a fiery lash hurled his way by Ikiji, whose charred body was finally freed of the crimson bands. The flaming serrated edge just narrowly missed Strange's neck, instead catching and slicing through the band of the Eye of Agamotto, cutting the necklace loose from Strange's body and sending it clattering to the ground. Strange immediately renewed his assault on Ikiji, constricting his burned body with crimson bands of intensified strength before he could even think about launching another sneak attack like that again.
The Eye...! Izuku scrambled over to it as Ikiji violently tugged against Strange's bonding spell, yelling belligerently. Izuku shifted his trembling hands through singed wooden splinters and crumbled stone as he took the relic in his grasp.
A relic that can reverse time... Izuku clutched the Eye as he did something he would make a habit of in time, much to the dismay of his friends and loved ones: he came up with a recklessly foolish plan.
If I use this to reverse time, Izuku thought. Can I undo my mistakes? Can I...bring the Book of Cagliostro back? Can I use this to beat Ikiji and undo all the damage done to Kamar-Taj?
And so Izuku mustered his resolve and pooled what strength he had, picking himself up and facing the back of the room, where the dented iron wrought shelf containing the rest of the forbidden tomes lay, battered and forlorn. Izuku slipped the Eye over his neck, reconstituting its ripped lace with a fiery strand as he ran the particulars of the ritual through his mind.
As if sensing his intent, Strange whirled toward Izuku just as he opened the Eye with the proper finger movements.
"Izuku!" Strange yelled, struggling to bring Ikiji's thrashing to a halt. "Stop that this instant!"
"It's okay, sensei!" Izuku replied faintly, already in the midst of weaving the reversing ritual. "I-I can bring the book back! I can beat Ikiji with this! I can fix everything with the Eye!"
"No you can't!" Strange shouted. "Don't you remember your lesson from before!? You cannot control the power of the Time Stone—!"
Strange's protests never reached Izuku's ears as the Eye activated with its resplendently emerald sheen of luminescence. The swirling green bracer materialized over Izuku's right arm and he began shifting his hands from right to left, the reversal starting slow but accelerating with each passing moment.
Izuku winced as splinters from the desk cut against his cheek, and he narrowly ducked under a myriad of tomes as they flew through the air, returning to the reformed shelves from whence they rested. Izuku struggled to maintain his balance as the ground shook and warped around him; he remained singularly focused on the spot where he knew the mist man—Kurogiri—would reemerge.
"I-zu-ku-!" Strange's warbled voice pierced through the spell; Izuku spared a glance back and shuddered as Strange and Ikiji's bodies were oscillating in place with otherworldly vibrations. Izuku could barely recognize their visages in the distorted mess.
Izuku groaned as a grueling strain suddenly surged throughout his body, his grasp over the Eye loosening as it began shaking out of his control. Seeing the space before him open up and the blackness of Kurogiri's body reappearing, Izuku foolishly fought through the unearthly stress bearing down on him to finish his retrieval of the Book of Cagliostro. It would be one of his greatest regrets for years to come.
"I see the book...!" Izuku muttered through grit teeth, shifting his hands for the next part of the spell. "Now...for a Time Slip!"
Izuku planned to use the Time Slip technique he read to pull the tome out the temporal reversal that he was weaving, so Kurogiri would not be able to whisk the book away a second time. His senses began to dull rapidly as he reached out to the tome, rotating his palms to free the book from his time shifting.
"Just a little bit further...!" Izuku yelled before he was suddenly bathed in the light of endless emerald threads. The floor beneath him gave way and Izuku plummeted into darkness.
"And what did the Book of Cagliostro say...about the dangers of performing such a ritual?"
Where am I? Izuku weakly thought as he struggled to even crack his eyes open. He was sinking and yet he felt...weightless. He could feel his blood pumping but he felt...lifeless. What is this place?
A Void. An infinite vacancy of swirling dark green hues that Izuku Midoriya was slowly sinking through. All around him were countless shimmering threads that stretched on as far as his eyes could see, emitting bright green incandescence as they floated motionlessly in the void.
"Do you not know the risks that could've been incurred with what you did?"
Izuku glanced at each of the threads he sunk by curiously through glazed eyes. These threads...where did they come from? And where did they go? Did they have a beginning? Or an end?
"Unstable branches in time!"
Izuku parted his lips to gasp as he bumped into a thread as he sank, only to have his vision engulfed in a bright light. He saw...himself? And All Might was in front of him. He was on his knees, sobbing inconsolably before All Might's withered form. The hero made no move to help Izuku back on his feet, but his lips were moving. Izuku couldn't hear what he was saying. But he could just somehow tell that whatever his hero was saying was what was causing the Izuku he was seeing to weep tears, presumably of joy.
Bumping into another thread as he descended, Izuku was graced with a bright flash, followed by another vision. A very different vision. This time he saw himself clad in a suit of armor decked out with plating and hydraulics that he couldn't even begin to describe. Beside him was a peculiar pink-haired girl as they both tinkered on the suit. He caught sight of a banner before the vision faded into obscurity that read Project: Indestructible.
Another thread, another vision: in this one he saw himself working with various equipment and training tools in a large warehouse-looking gym. The Izuku in this vision set down his duel Escrima sticks and bowed to an older man overlooking his training. Wait...was that—? Was that the Pro Hero Eraserhead? The vision faded and a glimmer of excitement surged through Izuku's otherwise lethargic body as he drifted down through the void. Personally training with a Pro Hero...how cool that world must've been.
And so Izuku plunged further down into the timeless abyss, bumping into thread after thread and witnessing vision after vision of worlds and possibilities he had never even thought probably beforehand. Some inspired hope, including visions of a boxer Izuku, an Izuku struggling to be a hero despite possessing a Lovecraftian Quirk, and an Izuku in Quirk Intelligence operating under the name Agent Deku of all things.
Other visions, however, were far less appealing...and far more terrifying: an oni masked killer violently ripping people apart and putting their mangled corpses on gruesome display for the authorities, an Izuku engulfed in impenetrable shadow, dark hands crawling over him possessively, and plenty of visions where he was simply...dead. No more.
"You could've been stuck reliving the same moment over and over, or worse, never having existed at all!"
So many threads to see. So many worlds and visions—endless possibilities—to be shown. What did it all mean? Was any of that real? Were all those truly roads he could have taken, paths splintering from the lane of his life like splayed threads from an undone bundle of yarn?
It was all so...tiring to think about. There's no time to think about it. In fact, there's no time at all. So why not rest on it Izuku? Just close your eyes...that's it. Let the darkness cradle you in eternal slumber as you drift forevermore down through the timeless quintessence.
No more threads, Izuku thought drowsily. No more visions.
All Izuku wanted was to drift and sleep. Unfortunately, he would be denied his desire for dormancy, at least if the blemished hands reaching through the somnolent sea to grasp his tunic had anything to say about it.
Izuku awoke on the broken stone floor with a thrashing motion, gasping for breath as if he were going to asphyxiate at any moment. Throwing wide-eyed glances around the room to regain his bearings, Izuku saw that he was still in the rubble of Kamar-Taj's library. Casting a glance toward the back of the room, Izuku saw the Book of Cagliostro splayed open on the floor, though it gave him little comfort as it appeared that there were now rips and tears in the book that were not present before.
With a sinking feeling in his gut that something had gone horribly askew, Izuku looked ahead of him. A panting, winded Doctor Strange was walking away from him and toward Ikiji, who was on his knees and firmly secured by a multitude of blazing lashes. Surrounding him on all sides were Zelma, Jack, Casey, and Rintrah—each appeared bruised in some capacity but they remained steadfast in their imprisonment of Ikiji. Jack and Rintrah in particular were glaring down at Ikiji with marked disdain.
It shocked Izuku to see just how terribly Ikiji had been ravaged by Strange's magic. His once golden brown robes—what remained of them anyway—were singed black. A bloodied scar had appeared on his face, spanning from underneath his left eye down to his jawline. His right arm and shoulder looked positively charred—goodness, he's been burned down to the bone!—from Strange's fire. And yet...Ikiji seemed unperturbed by the carnage, smiling up at his former teacher with an eerie calm etched on his burned face.
"Congratulations," Ikiji coughed. "You managed to save him after all. How...sentimental."
"It's over, Ikiji," Strange panted as he stood before his fallen student. "You and your band of thugs have lost. Victory is ours."
"Victory?" Ikiji asked, his lips twitching as he grinned. "What you call 'victory' is nothing more than the opening salvo of a war five years in the making! You and the rest of the Masters planted the seeds of this conflict all those years ago, and me?" Ikiji paused to chuckle. "I am merely what has blossomed. The fruit of your foolishness."
Strange raised his hands, as if preparing to dispatch Ikiji once and for all with a finishing spell, to strike this zealot down and cleanse the Earth of his darkness...but he hesitated.
"Pity will stay your hand again, even after all these years?" Ikiji asked softly. "You couldn't bring yourself to kill me last time, either."
"How I despise that look in your eye," Ikiji continued. "How I loathe that your pity holds your hatred back. How disappointing."
The ground beneath Ikiji suddenly oozed with black fog that began pulling him into its depths, the fiery bands constricting him severed as the stygian mist cloaked his body in shadow.
"I will wipe off that pitiful face and instill in you a look of terror, Strange," Ikiji hissed as the dark fog sucked him in. "One day...one day..."
Ikiji Kokotsu was gone, whisked away by the swirling black vortex, leaving behind a bristling Strange and several nonplussed practitioners behind in the rubble of his machinations.
"He's gone," Izuku cried out weakly, eliciting a grimace from Strange. "I-I'm so sorry sensei, I thought I could—"
"No, you didn't!" Strange yelled as he briskly turned toward the boy, approaching him with barely restrained indignation. "You were not thinking at all, Izuku Midoriya!"
Izuku flinched, the Sorcerer Supreme's ire welling up a great surge of guilt and regret within his pounding chest. He was unable to look his teacher in the eye and so he let his gaze drop to the floor.
"I allowed you to be tempted by your curiosity when you first used the Eye of Agamotto," Strange said, towering above Izuku like a figure bestowing judgment. "So that you might understand the severity of using magic so recklessly!"
"Especially magic that you know you can't properly control!" Strange continued, kneeling down to Izuku's level. "You knew you lacked the skills to sufficiently harness the power of the Eye, yet you chose to do so anyway in a foolish attempt to retrieve the Book of Cagliostro!"
Izuku bit his lip and trembled as the magnitude of his actions began to dawn on him. He clenched his hands into fists, shaking with frustration.
"Did you think I would be upset with you that the tome was stolen?" Strange placed his hands on Izuku's shoulders, a voice of anger melting away into one of solace and relief. "No tome in this library is worth more to me than your life, Izuku."
Izuku gasped as Strange embraced him in a tight hug and the boy could feel the weight of his worry that he had inadvertently placed onto Strange's shoulders. As upset and disappointed as Strange may have been, Izuku could feel that his fear and anguish over almost losing his student exceeded that by several orders of magnitude.
"You are far too reckless and self-sacrificing for your own good," Strange lamented.
"I'm sorry," Izuku sobbed as he sank into his teacher's embrace, whimpering against the fabric of his tunic. To risk one's own life for the lives of others...that was the virtue that All Might had spoken of, but Izuku now realized he had gone too far today, with almost disastrous repercussions. "I'm so sorry."
Chapter 16: Foreboding Aftermath
It was not until after their consolatory embrace had ended and Izuku got the last of his apologetic tears and whimpers out of his system did the boy realize the high-strung silence permeating the room. Not just the room, in fact: the silence was hanging dreadfully over the entirety of Kamar-Taj. There were no more commotions echoing in from above ground, out in the courtyard. All of the fighting had ceased by this point. Not even an occasional cry or yell reached Izuku's ears, strained as they were.
Does that mean we've won? Izuku thought hopefully. Strange's sudden arrival and triumphant takedown of Ikiji certainly made it seem so. Ikiji himself had been whisked away by the mist man—Kurogiri—presumably, driven from Kamar-Taj while the Book of Cagliostro remained within the grasp of the Masters of the Mystic Arts. Against all odds, and in spite of Izuku's reckless ploy, had victory been assured?
Rintrah meandered over to the tome, the heavy clops of his hoofed feet reverberating throughout the annihilated archives. He passed by Strange and Izuku without a word, patting his gargantuan hand on Izuku's shoulder before moving to scoop the Book of Cagliostro off the floor. Despite the force nearly causing him to collapse again, Izuku still felt somewhat relieved by the gesture; it was simply Rintrah's way of showing he cared, he supposed.
"Master," Rintrah beckoned Strange to come over as he thumbed through the tome, which definitely looked worse for wear after Izuku's stunt. The boy wondered if he'd inadvertently caused the sudden deterioration by overextending with the Eye. Rintrah had skimmed through each and every page before suddenly coming to a halt, his eyes narrowing considerably as he called for Strange. When Strange approached Rintrah's side, the sorcerer could plainly see what the issue was: a page from the book had been ripped out.
And not just any page, either: it was the page containing the ritual necessary to contact the entity Dormammu. Strange stroked his chin patch, contemplating this newest revelation. It appeared as if Ikiji and his allies were not entirely unsuccessful after all.
"Oh my gosh," Izuku said ashamedly, appearing by Strange's side and peering into the frayed interior of the book. "Did I cause that?" Strange could see that he, too, recognized which page was missing.
"No, your overuse of the Eye is not the prime reason for the page's disappearance," Strange said, turning to Izuku with a quizzical look. "Izuku...what was the last thing you remember before losing control of the Eye of Agamotto?"
"I saw the warping man reappear," Izuku said, straining his mind to remember. "I used a Time Slip to pull the book out of the reversal. I saw the book hit the floor and then..." Izuku trailed off, not feeling entirely comfortable discussing his descent through the Timeless Aether.
Strange seemed to get the gist of it and pressed no further on Izuku's memories. "What happened," Strange continued with his explanation. "Was that your spell ended the moment you fell out of this realm. The mist man, panicking as Ikiji and I resisted the spell's effects, opted to merely rip the page he sought out instead of taking the whole book again."
"Then we can still get the page back, can't we?" Izuku asked, hope in his voice. "You're much more skilled at using the Eye, right, sensei?"
Strange paused, as if pondering Izuku's request, before offering his student a gentle smile that belied a deeper sense of foreboding. "I think the Eye has been used enough for one day, Izuku."
"But—! But—!" Izuku tried protesting.
"What I said about the book moments ago also extends to that page as well," Strange quickly interjected. "We have more pressing priorities to attend to: namely, seeing to any injured within the compound."
As if on cue, the other practitioners present hastily made their way up the stairwell to carry out Strange's prerogative; Rintrah opened a portal due to his size. Only Izuku remained, clenching and unclenching his hands and stewing in what Strange could only assume was self-doubt.
"If you're worried about those villains stealing the ritual, then don't be," Strange said, gripping Izuku's shoulders again to console him. "Whatever it is Ikiji and his band of ilk are planning, he will fail. We will see to it eventually."
Seeing a modicum of ease returning to Izuku's face, Strange nodded and turned to open a portal of his own. "You've...been through more than most today," Strange said, speaking as if he were trying to choose his words carefully. "Take some time to rest here and then return to your barrack if you can; I don't want you doing any sort of drudgery today."
Izuku plopped down onto the nearest and most comfortable pile of rubble the instant Strange vanished on the other side of his portal, shifting what splinters and debris he could out of his way as he sat. He tenderly slid his fingers over his face, grimacing at the realization that most of what blood there was had dried by now. Izuku spent the next several minutes using salivated fingers to rub as much grime off his cheeks and forehead as he could.
As Izuku surveyed what remained of the decimated library, he wondered how the rest of Kamar-Taj fared by comparison. He had only seen a glimpse of the carnage in the time he'd spent out in the courtyard, and he silently worried if there were those that were seriously injured, or worse, dead. Despite the unmitigated thrashing he'd received from Ikiji, he'd only received bruises on his chest, sides, and legs, and cuts on his scalp and cheeks that had already clotted. Given the state of disrepair the library was now in, Izuku felt that he'd gotten off easy.
Leaning back, Izuku felt something light pressing down on his sternum. Looking down, he saw that he still had the Eye of Agamotto draped around his neck. Izuku summarily yanked it off of him as his shame and guilt returned with a vengeance. His immediate instinct was to throw it as far away from him as physically possible, the sheer rashness of his actions still weighing fresh on his conscience, but he resisted the urge to.
As he gazed at the relic, Izuku thought back to Strange's reluctance to use it himself to retrieve the lost page. His reasoning for dealing with higher priorities such as the wounded seemed solid, but Izuku couldn't shake the feeling that there was something...more to it. It almost seemed that Strange wasn't unwilling to do it as much as he was somehow unable to do it. But he was surely more skilled in using the Eye, right? He was Sorcerer Supreme, after all.
It's precisely because he's more skilled that he knows not to try using it, Izuku suddenly realized as he studied the relic. Temporal paradoxes, time loops, the threat of existential erasure—Izuku heard all those warnings from Wong and Zelma when he'd first toyed with the Eye, but there must still be other risks to using the Eye that he was still unaware of. Risks that Strange, being Sorcerer Supreme, would definitely be privy to.
"I...shouldn't even be holding this anymore," Izuku said aloud as he forced himself to his feet, pushing through the slight pain in his legs. Izuku slowly but surely made his way toward the very back room, where the pedestal he'd plucked the Eye from the first time stood forlorn, a tower among the surrounding rubble.
"A wise choice," A familiar voice of sternness sounded from behind Izuku, causing him to jump right as he set the Eye down.
"M-Master Wong!" Izuku exclaimed as he spun around to face the man.
Wong looked exhausted, though he looked far better than Izuku, as his head and face remained mostly unblemished and uncut. The shoulder where Ikiji had stabbed him was buried under bandages and his corresponding arm was secured in what looked like a hastily constructed arm sling. Izuku was just glad to see that Wong was still alive.
"I was just..." Izuku gave one final glance at the Eye of Agamotto before turning back and bowing before Wong. "Returning what I should have never used to begin with. I understand now how foolish my actions have been. I apologize for all the trouble I have caused!"
"Ease yourself, Midoriya," Wong said with a curt nod, one side of his lips curling upward. "What matters is that you are alive and that you seem to have learned from your foolishness."
"I'll never use the Eye again, I swear..." Izuku muttered.
"I'm sure you will," Wong retorted, standing by Izuku's side. "Strange and I recognize your potential, as do the other Masters as well as your peers. In time, as your skills grow, I'm sure Master Strange will see fit to train you in properly using the Eye."
Until then, no need for anymore curious Apprentices to be wielding the powers of an Infinity Stone, Wong ruminated. You are not yet ready to know of such things, Midoriya.
A slight fluttering noise interrupted the tense silence and a dark fabric-like object suddenly emerged from the shadows of the room. Izuku yelped as it zipped in his direction, flapping and flittering in the air ecstatically around him.
"I see your new cloak made it through the battle unscathed," Wong observed as the seemingly sentient cape swooped down before Midoriya.
E-eh? "My new cloak?" Izuku blinked and examined the floating cape closely. In terms of appearance and sentience, it was practically identical to Strange's Cloak of Levitation aside from its size and color. It was far smaller than Strange's—designed specifically with his bodily dimensions in mind, Izuku figured—and instead of being a bright red, this cape was a beautifully deep shade of emerald green, complimenting Izuku's hair and eyes perfectly.
The cloak floated closer to Izuku and extended one of its tips toward him, as if offering to shake his hand.
"Hello there—" Izuku chuckled and reached a hand out to shake the cloak, only to have the mystical garment immediately nuzzle against his cheek before hastily securing itself to his backside, clasping firmly over his shoulders and around his neck. Izuku instinctively tried to yell out as the cloak's sudden movements caught him off guard, only to be soothed back into a state of calm. Much like Strange's cloak, this cloak also offered an ethereal warmth that proved quite pacifying.
"Did you think that because you were denied the use of Strange's cloak during training that you would be left without a relic of your own to use?" Wong asked with the slightest tinge of amusement in his voice. "Not so, Midoriya."
Before Izuku could formulate a response, the sound of a gong sounded nearby. The dark timbre caused both Wong and Izuku to tense up momentarily. Both had panicked thoughts running through their minds. Was another attack commencing?
"That came from the antechamber," Wong uttered, summoning a portal to the building with his uninjured non-dominant hand, a feat Izuku was particularly impressed by.
Wong and Izuku rushed through the portal and into the compound's antechamber, the large vestibule that served as the formal entrance into Kamar-Taj. The smell of singed wood and stone was as prevalent, if not more so, than in the library. The entrance, to their surprise, was wide open and Strange was standing before it, speaking rather firmly to someone not immediately visible to them.
"I will not repeat myself, Pandora," Strange said agitatedly. "You and your agents will not be allowed entry into Kamar-Taj!"
"Sensei!" Izuku exclaimed as he and Wong rushed out together to see what the commotion was. Wong's expression visibly soured when he saw who Strange was warding off at the front door, while Izuku seemed somewhat intimidated.
Hunkered out on the road before Kamar-Taj's secret entrance were several black trucks, blocking the street from all other commuters, on foot or not. The people that said trucks had ferried before them all donned black and blue suits with white belts and white boots. The faces of all but one of them were covered in masks, rendering them unidentifiable. Emblazoned on each of their chests was a symbol that Izuku recognized instantly.
That crest—the encircled eagle, Izuku thought in surprise at the sudden turn of events. What are Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. doing at Kamar-Taj!? The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division was known the world over as the head authority of all things related to Quirk Enforcement and basically controlled the bureaucracy of all things Pro Hero-related. But why were they here...?
"Ooh, 'sensei'?" The sole unmasked person, a dark skinned woman with her hair tied in a bun said amusedly, eyeing Izuku mischievously. Her suit, unlike the other agents, was sleeveless and her arms were covered in many black runic tattoos. Izuku also noticed that the woman had a gnarled wand tucked into her whitened belt. "I see you've picked up a new student, Steve-o, and as expected it looks like he's been put through the ringer here."
"So how about it, kid?" The woman asked, sauntering over to Izuku and staring him down. "Think you can talk your 'sensei' into letting us in to do our jobs?" A smirk graced her face. "Simon Says—"
"Don't even think about it, Pandora," Strange all but growled.
The woman—Pandora—only giggled in response, giving Izuku a curt bow. "So grumpy, isn't he? But alas, where are my manners? Pandora Peters, Director of W.A.N.D., at your service!"
"W.A.N.D.?" Izuku asked questioningly. Was he mistaken by the emblems they were wearing?
"The Wizardry, Alchemy, Necromancy Department," Wong scowled. "Sorcerers that work for S.H.I.E.L.D."
Sorcerers? Izuku was bewildered. So these people can all use magic, too!? To think that such a department existed under S.H.I.E.L.D.!
"Geez, Wong, spoil all the mystery for the little guy why don't you?" Pandora rolled her eyes. "By the way, you didn't hurt that arm of yours rolling around while hibernating, did you?"
"For your information," Strange quickly interceded before Wong could get off anything more violent than a growl. "Kamar-Taj was just attacked. Though I think you already knew that, didn't you?"
"S.H.I.E.L.D. sends its most clandestine department to offer help and you rebuke us with skepticism?" Pandora said mockingly. "You know, Director Fury gave me this assignment himself!"
"My skepticism stems from the fact that you only bothered showing up after the battle had already concluded," Strange said unwaveringly. "And no department of S.H.I.E.L.D. would be this organized if they didn't have a bevy of information ahead of time."
"You knew Ikiji was planning to assault Kamar-Taj," Wong said accusingly.
"We received intelligence informing us that he was somewhere in Kathmandu," Pandora corrected. "While we were aware of the possibility of an attack, we had no way of confirming this, let alone knowing it would take place today."
"You could have informed us regardless," Strange angrily retorted. "I can assure you none of this would have happened if you'd been forthcoming about what you knew."
"You're one to talk about being forthcoming, Strange," Pandora retorted right back with a wry smirk. "With how many secrets the Sorcerer Supreme is burdened with and whatnot."
Strange was silent for a split second before striding toward Pandora. Everyone present bristled somewhat as Strange leaned in to whisper softly to her. "If you and Fury had known ahead of time what Kaecilius and All For One were planning that day over five years ago, would you have intervened or waited for afterwards like you did today?"
"...I guess we'll never know, Steve-o," Pandora whispered back.
Scoffing, Strange turned heel and walked back toward Wong and Izuku. "We'll allow you to take what intruders are still alive," Strange said. "But you will still not be permitted entry."
"A reasonable compromise, unfortunate as it still is," Pandora replied, signaling to her agents to make preparations for prisoner transport.
"U-um, excuse me?" Izuku timidly called out. "Director Peters? Are you really a sorceress that can use magic?"
"Oh, what a silly, cute, little student you've picked up, Steve-o!" Pandora cried out, approaching Izuku and pinching his cheek, which promptly sent the boy scurrying back to Strange's side, face flush with timidity. "And to answer your question with another question: did you really think Kamar-Taj had a monopoly on magic?"
"Sucks to see your stay here cut short, Izuku," Jack said dolefully.
A week had passed since Ikiji's incursion and what villains that were captured by the Kamar-Taj practitioners were transitioned into W.A.N.D. custody—bureaucrats with wands, as Wong so unflatteringly called them. Given all that had transpired, Strange deemed it necessary to wrap up Izuku's training at Kamar-Taj early and return him home before the second term of his final year of Junior High began. Thankfully, Strange gathered Izuku's closest acquaintances for a proper farewell. Rintrah, Jack, Zelma, Casey, and Wong had all come to see Strange and Izuku off.
"Izuku grown strong," Rintrah snorted, crossing his arms in front of him. "Izuku grow stronger, hear?"
"We didn't get much time one-on-one while you trained, so next time you come around here you'll have to show me your skills in a duel, Izuku!" Casey yelled.
"And make sure you read through all your spells completelybefore trying any of them out!" Zelma chided.
"Don't disappear for over a year again," Wong chimed in, his statement undoubtedly directed at Strange. "I'll be checking in regularly to ensure you're still carrying out your duties as Sorcerer Supreme."
"Oh ye of little faith," Strange muttered, swirling open a portal back into his esteemed Sanctum.
"Everyone," Izuku choked out, a few wayward tears dripping down his properly patched up cheeks. "I...I don't even know how to express how grateful I am to all of you. You didn't just show me, you taught me. You didn't just tolerate me, you accepted me. You didn't just make me feel welcomed, you made me feel as if I belonged here. You guys...are the first real friends I've made in a long time."
"No tears, Izuku," Casey said gently, lightly punching Izuku's arm. "This ain't goodbye, you know! You'll be back eventually!"
"R-right!" Izuku scrubbed away any tears that threatened to run free, looking up at all those that had helped him get one step closer to attaining his dream with red, puffy eyes filled with determination. "I promise! Next time we meet I'll definitely be accepted into U.A.'s Hero Course!" Snatching up the bags carrying what belongings he'd brought with him, Izuku deftly whirled around and quickly strode through the portal with Strange in case he failed to keep the rest of his tears subdued.
As the portal closed, Izuku glanced around the Sanctum—virtually unchanged and untouched since he was last here several weeks ago.
"Damn you, Drumm," Izuku heard Strange mutter. Looking over in his direction, Izuku saw Strange reading a note on a nearby desk. The note was situated next to a plate of what looked like...voodoo doll cookies? "And I was looking forward to introducing you to my apprentice, too."
"Cookies?" Izuku asked inquisitively, scooping one off the plate and sniffing it. They still seemed warm.
"Hmm?" Strange turned his attention to the plate. "Oh, they're safe to eat. Or at least, they should be anyway..."
The cookie Izuku was holding dropped back onto the plate with a crumbly clatter.
"Anyway," Strange said, stuffing the letter into a pouch for later. "We should probably get you home as quickly as—"
"Can you teach me that lightning spell of yours next?" Izuku abruptly asked, garnering a quizzical look from Strange. Izuku fidgeted under his gaze.
"What...brought this about?" Strange asked his student.
"I just..." Izuku sighed. "So far my repertoire only includes portals, shields, and eldritch whips. All fairly standard skills for sorcerers. And none of it seemed to help me against Ikiji. He outclassed me in every way."
"And you want to be prepared for if—or when—you face him again, correct?" Strange guessed correctly as Izuku nodded in confirmation. "Offensive spells like the Bolts of Bedevilment will flesh out your magical repertoire immensely, but you must remember that the versatility of magic resides not just in the sheer number of spells that exist but also in the sheer number of ways the skills you already know can be used."
"So I'm not utilizing my current skills to their fullest offensive potential?" Izuku said, scrunching his brow in contemplation.
"If what you told me is how you truly believe, then yes," Strange said. "I'll teach you the basics of the Bolts of Bedevilment but we'll also round out what you already know on top of training you on how to battle with your Cloak of Levitation effectively. These last seven months will be significantly harder than your first eleven. With your school work on top of all this, will you be able to handle it Izuku?"
"Yes, sensei!" Izuku exclaimed as Strange prepared to open a portal directly to the boy's home. "W-wait a moment!"
"Hmm? What is it, Izuku?" Strange asked, hands slowing to a halt.
"Um...there's something I've been meaning to ask you ever since the day Ikiji attacked," Izuku said, fidgeting with his fingers as he looked up at Strange. "Were you...not able to use the Eye of Agamotto to bring the stolen page back?"
Figured something was amiss, did you? Strange thought as he released a ragged sigh. "To move through time is to move through space, Izuku. When you manipulate time in a given area, whether it be forward or backward, the space of that area is also inadvertently manipulated as well."
"Does that have anything to do with the spatial paradoxes Zelma warned me about?" Izuku asked.
"No," Strange shook his head. "The dangers I am referring to has less to do with paradoxes and more to do with...rupturing. The nearly irreparable rupturing of the very fabric of space-time, Izuku."
Izuku gulped. "Is that what happened to me when—?"
Again, Strange nodded solemnly. "You slipped through a rupture of your own unwitting creation and fell into the Timeless Aether, a void between all possible times. You see, as skilled as I may be with the Eye, there is only so far back or forward one can go before the space containing the flow of time being manipulated starts to become...distorted. Beyond repair, even. And that conundrum only gets multiplied when targeting people capable of warping their bodies through space, Izuku."
"I get it," Izuku said, eyes widened in realization. "Since I was focusing the reversal spell on returning the warp Quirk user back into the library—"
"It only destabilized your control over the Eye that much quicker," Strange finished for Izuku. "When I deem you ready for training with the Eye, I will teach you how to properly focus—"
"I don't think I should ever use the Eye of Agamotto again," Izuku dejectedly interjected.
Strange fell silent, studying the doubt and disillusionment on his apprentice's face. "Fret not, Izuku," Strange said at last. "We needn't worry about using the Eye for a good while. In fact, the only thing we should be concerning ourselves over is how to explain what occurred to your mother."
"Y-you intend to tell her everything that happened!?" Izuku exclaimed.
"When I convinced your mother to allow me to train you, I was fairly forthcoming about the risks involved," Strange said. "That is a level of transparency that cannot be so willingly discarded. Especially not for a woman like your mother who worries about her son so much."
Izuku, crestfallen and anxious as he was, knew that Strange was right. They would simply have to tackle this newest, unforeseen obstacle together and simply be honest with his mother.
"But not when you're all wound up," Strange spoke as if he read Izuku's mind. "Take the day to relax. I will inform your mother that you'll be coming home early and then we'll see what tomorrow brings, alright?"
Izuku nodded and quietly carried his bags upstairs to the second floor guest room, feeling slightly less apprehensive about facing his mother tomorrow.
Strange whisked himself away into his personal room as soon as Izuku disappeared from view. Collapsing at his desk as the exhaustion of the past week's events suddenly caught up to him, Strange steeled himself and opened his personal laptop to construct a short, succinct e-mail for Inko. Strange paused as he skimmed through his contacts and saw Toshinori's at the top of the list.
I'll have to inform Toshinori of what transpired at Kamar-Taj as well, Strange mused as he thought about how best to begin his e-mail before pausing again. Toshinori had sent him an e-mail himself just a day ago. Curious, Strange opened the electronic correspondence.
Stephen, my boy!
I have found my successor!
Sincerely,
Toshinori Yagi
Strange saw that there was a single image file attached to the e-mail. Wasting no time further, Stephen opened the file with a quick click. He studied the boy pictured for a good several minutes, mentally ruminating over Toshinori's pick.
"Seems I am not the only one who picked an interesting protégé," Strange chuckled. "The day your new student meets mine will be an intriguing day indeed, Toshinori."
Flip. Flip. Flip.
All For One sat in his chair, hooked up to his many medicinal machines as he silently perused through the book laid out before him, illuminated solely by the glaring monitor beside him. The monitor cast a sickly green luminescence across an otherwise pitch black room, deepening the decrepit shadows on the man's disfigured visage.
Flip.
All For One turned the page again, this one briefly appearing blank like all the others he'd looked at before the kanji seemed to bleed onto the page from nonexistence, filling the sheet with dark knowledge. As he read, the man's fingers gingerly ran across the now disgusting contours of his face, sliding underneath where his eyes had once been present. Every day for five years straight did he seek an escape from the torment that followed his now pitiful state; every night did he awake at least once calling out for the annihilation of the two men who'd put him in such a state of bodily tarnish.
"All Might! Stephen Strange!"
But now...his years of patience and meticulous preparation were beginning to pay off. Tomura, despite all the work still needed, was developing quite well in his growth. He was steadily drawing allies to the League's cause, with his sensei pulling the necessary strings when required, of course. Their underground machinations were generating a profit and were out of the periphery of Pro Heroes, sorcerers, and the ever watchful eye of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents alike. And then there was the boon that was Ikiji Kokotsu...
"Sensei," Kurogiri spoke reverently as he warped into the room. His fogged form was barely visible in the sanctuary's darkness, though his piercing yellow eyes gave away his position in the shadows. "Ikiji is...sufficiently recovered to see you now."
"Thank you, Kurogiri," All For One spoke suavely, as he usually did. "Send him in."
With a quick bow, Kurogiri seemed to sink into the darkness as he mostly vanished, a swirling mass of warping shadow replacing where he once was. The limping form of Ikiji Kokotsu slowly emerged before the vortex dissipated entirely, leaving the last zealot alone with the man known as that Greatest Evil.
All For One didn't turn to face Ikiji, nor did he rush to acknowledge him in any way. Instead he flipped, flipped, flipped through his ancient book some more. He didn't need to face the bandaged boy as he was already aware of the extent of his injuries: third-degree burns on his right arm, a scar on his face, second-degree burns all over his backside—contusions, concussions, abrasions, and lacerations aplenty.
"You knew I wasn't ready," Ikiji finally spoke. His tone wasn't accusatory, though that was most certainly his intent. He was frustrated beyond belief and Shigaraki repeatedly taunting him by saying he got 'steamrolled' wasn't helping in the slightest.
"Correct," All For One said plainly, turning another page of his tome. "I knew you weren't fully prepared."
"Then why did you agree with my plan if you knew I still didn't stand a chance against Strange!?" Ikiji cried out in frustration. "I was so sure of my victory, yet securing the page of the ritual we needed mostly came down to sheer luck...!"
"Do you know what the Montesi Formula is, Ikiji?" All For One asked out of the blue. The man continued when he heard nothing but silence from the boy. "The Montesi Formula is said to be the key to eradicating the world of all its vampires. I'd heard that it was scribed in this tome, yet it's nowhere to be found. I can say the same for many other pieces of knowledge I've searched for in these pages, yet they seem to be irreparably lost to time. Don't you find it ironic? A book of nearly infinite knowledge...and it's missing pages."
"And what does that have to do with me?" Ikiji inquired. "Or with what happened at Kamar-Taj?"
"The Darkhold may be missing pages but that has not stopped me from using it for my own benefit," All For One explained. "I may be missing variables—knowledge—but that will not prevent me from carrying out my objectives. I am not crippled by uncertainty like you are."
"I am not crippled—!"
"What would you have done if I hadn't supplied your foolish operation with my unconditional support?" He asked Ikiji. "You would have done nothing. You would have bid your time, and bid your time, and bid your time until you would have been out of time. Is it any wonder why I forbade Tomura from participating in an operation doomed to fail?"
"We didn't fail," Ikiji growled. "I secured the ritual for you—"
"Your plan had two explicit objectives in mind," All For One interjected. "Secure the ritual and kill Doctor Stephen Strange. One out of two is the equivalent of fifty out of one hundred. That's a failing grade, Ikiji."
Ikiji Kokotsu said nothing, stewing in his own frustration.
"Ease yourself, Ikiji," All For One said, one side of his lips curling upward. "What matters is that you are alive and that you seem to have learned from your foolishness."
"...What of the ritual?" Ikiji asked cautiously.
"I take it you want to perform it right away?" All For One asked. "Is this you assuming you have every variable accounted for? Is this a methodical Ikiji or an arrogantly overconfident one?"
"Master Kaecilius sent me to you for guidance, not quandaries," Ikiji growled.
"And guide you I shall," All For One replied. "Just as I am guiding Tomura to his true purpose, you, too, shall be guided to yours. What you lack—what you need—to fulfill that purpose is an empirical mind and a willingness to act despite a risk of failure."
"Empirical?" Ikiji asked confusedly.
"An...experiment," All For One clarified. "To test this ritual. To see for myself if it would be wise to perform such sophisticated magic on one such as I, who is not proficient in the mystic arts whatsoever."
"And do you have a target in mind?" Ikiji asked.
"Patience, Ikiji," All For One gently chided. "That day is still a few months away and you will need to be sufficiently recovered in order to carry out this task. And I have indeed selected a target. Tell me: have you ever heard of Project Pegasus?"
Chapter 17: That Which Corrupts
"Are you ready, Izuku?" Strange asked as he stood before his apprentice in the Sanctum's foyer, his back to the staircase. "We're still going to keep it small, staying within the confines of just my Sanctum for this exercise."
"I'm ready!" Izuku said with a firm nod. He was clad in his red apprentice tunic with his personal Cloak of Levitation clasped firmly around his shoulders.
Nodding back, Strange raised his right arm and gave a swift chop to the space before him. The air seemed to shatter like glass and Izuku's ears were filled with the sound of violent cracking. Izuku remained calm and stood his ground as the cracks spread outward, enveloping the entire visible room before churning and fading like a kaleidoscope that stopped working. Izuku knew the transition posed no danger to him or Strange, but phasing into the Mirror Dimension never ceased to fascinate him.
"The Mirror Dimension is the perfect training ground if you wish to prepare for an opponent like Ikiji," Strange said as he began hovering in the air. "In here I can manipulate space as readily as he can in the real world."
Strange raised two fingers and the entirety of the foyer began to undulate and ripple as if it had adopted a strictly fluid-like state. The ripples extended outward, with Strange as their epicenter. The foyer began to grow and stretch, the steps of the staircase trickling endlessly like a wild stream to the floorboards, which also burbled tumultuously.
Izuku steeled himself and focused his mind, syncing himself with his cloak as per Strange's instructions and allowing it to feel his crystal clear intent. Izuku jumped into the air as the burbling floorboards reached his feet and he managed to sustain levitation, his green cloak fluttering lightly behind him.
It's as I suspected, Izuku thought as he watched the ground beneath him wash away in a tumultuous sea of swirling tile. Ikiji can only spatially manipulate solid matter but not the air itself! If I remain levitating in the air then that should negate his advantage over the terrain!
"Feeling safe, Izuku?" Strange's voice sounded out from somewhere within the turbulent maelstrom he had created. Snapping back to attention, Izuku saw his master was nowhere to be seen; he had already hidden himself in the disorienting maze. "You may have long since figured out a limitation to spatial manipulation, but victory is by no means assured. You know the rules, Izuku!"
"Right!" Izuku responded. "Stay off the ground no matter what!"
The foyer had expanded rapidly and the staircase alone looked as if it were hundreds of feet wide, the elongated steps cascading down like stone rapids. Seemingly far behind him, the door into the Sanctum loomed large as if the Sanctum were now home to giants. The faraway walls and ceiling all rippled like water blown by wind, and Izuku knew he could be struck by anything and at anytime. And Doctor Strange was concealed in this dimension...somewhere. Waiting to be found, or waiting to strike.
Figuring he could maximize his advantage in the center of the room, Izuku flew in that direction, keeping his eyes and ears peeled for any sudden movement, though that was easier said than done when everything was seemingly moving.
"Placing yourself in the very center of the room?" Izuku could hear Strange's voice, but couldn't pinpoint where it was coming from. "Not necessarily a bad strategy...if I were an amateur."
Izuku paled as the cascading staircase suddenly surged upward, rising far above him like a tiled tidal wave, nearly scraping against the ceiling as it accelerated back down.
"But placing yourself in the dead center of the room makes you equally susceptible to an attack from any direction!" Strange proclaimed as the stone wave crashed down, forcing Izuku to hurriedly fly through the tunnel to avoid capture.
Holy crap! Izuku thought as he instinctively zoomed toward the dining room, which also seemed to expand alongside the foyer and the rest of the Sanctum, its entryway ominously arching wide in the air as Izuku approached it. Master Strange is going all out!
Izuku yelped as a pillar of wood erupted through the wave as it crashed behind him, bisecting the tunnel cleanly as he flew through it. Izuku glanced back and suppressed a yell of terror as similar pillars sporadically burst through the tunnel and slammed through the other side. Whether they were primarily for capturing him or simply slowing them down, Izuku was unsure, though he knew they were definitely obstructions.
Too bad he thought they were only behind him. An 'oof' was all Izuku could groan out as he collided with a pillar that emerged directly before him. Stunned from the impact, Izuku was sure the wave would crash down and close the tunnel around him entirely, but his cloak had other plans. As if sensing its master's distress, the cloak seemed to take control as it wrapped itself around Izuku's body and sped over the pillar, zooming toward the narrowing end of the tunnel with increasing acceleration.
"T-thanks!" Izuku stammered as he regained his composure, trying to take control back from his cloak. "I'm fine, so you can s-slow down now! Cloak!"
Izuku yelled as he tussled with the cloak for control, bumping into the sides of the tunnel repeatedly before twirling and crashing to a halt meters from the tunnel's shrinking exit. Izuku and the cloak lunged forward only to be blocked by the sudden appearance of Stephen Strange levitating into view at the tunnel's end, hands crackling with lightning.
Decelerating to a full stop again, Izuku hurriedly raised his own crackling hands against Strange...and hesitated. Strange frowned and unleashed his attack, coating Izuku's body with arcs of lightning. Though it lacked the searing intensity that managed to effortlessly pierce through Ikiji's defenses, it was still painful nonetheless.
Izuku yelled as his body fell into a painful fit of shudders and spasms, lightning coursing through his body as the tunnel finally closed, the end clamping down around his waist as he and the cloak futilely tried to squirm out to freedom. Strange sighed at the fruitlessness of his apprentice's actions.
"I guess this is as good a place to stop as any..." Strange muttered as he reversed the tile's grip on Izuku just enough to allow him to slip through. With a gasp, Izuku fell to the ground, obviously disoriented. Shaking his head, Strange opened a portal beneath Izuku, letting him fall through and back into the real world.
"Y-you really went all out that time..." Izuku groaned as he rubbed the soreness on his waist and shook the dizziness out of his head. Even though he was back in the real world, he wouldn't dare look over at the staircase. The transition out of the Mirror Dimension was always more unpleasant than the transition into it.
"Hey!" Izuku noticed that his green cloak was no longer connected to his shoulders. He whirled around and, seeing it floating passively some feet away, approached it irritably. "Why didn't you stop when I said to? We got stuck because of that!"
In response, the cloak flitted about angrily at the accusation, its bottom corners curling into what Izuku could only assume were fisticuffs as it squared off with the boy, aggressively weaving to and fro.
"Is that any way for a sorcerer to talk with his relic?" Strange jokingly asked as he descended from the portal. "That is most unbecoming of you, Izuku."
"I—! It—! This is all his fault!" Izuku flusteredly stammered, pointing an accusing finger at the cloak only to turn and see the cloak pointing right back at him. "Hey, don't point at me!"
"Any blame to be had for a mishap with a relic, sentient or not, rests entirely on the shoulders of the sorcerer using it," Strange said, chuckling at the sight of his student arguing with his cloak just as he had done with his own so many years ago. "In terms of magic and functionality your cloak is identical to my own, and in order to use the Cloak of Levitation effectively, one must—"
"One must be in sync with the cloak and have their intentions be felt clearly," Izuku finished Strange's explanation, one that he'd heard many times over the last several months. "But I really felt like I was in sync until—"
"Until you crashed," Strange interjected. "Or rather, until you suddenly found yourself in a disadvantageous position and failed to properly adapt in time."
"But can I really adapt to a situation like that on the fly and stay in-tune with my cloak all at once?" Izuku asked, his brow scrunching in frustration.
"Learning the proper ropes behind any given relic is no easy feat," Strange admitted. "And the difficulty is undoubtedly compounded when adding in the factor of your cloak's sentience. But you knew of the difficulties going into this specific training, and despite the...'setback' we had a few months ago, your skill with working alongside the cloak has improved remarkably compared to when you first began, Izuku."
Said 'setback' being Inko, Izuku's mother. True to his word, Strange remained open with Inko about what had transpired at Kamar-Taj while Izuku was there. He just wished his sensei wasn't so honest to the point that he had described what had occurred in...such vivid detail. Inko was horrified, but Izuku was more so when Strange told Inko how he would understand if she decided to end his training sessions right then and there.
Her consternation and indignation remained visible, but they had lessened just enough to allow for a compromise to be made: any training outside of their apartment was to be halted for the remainder of the summer as well as for the first four weeks of Izuku's final second term. Inko also requested to be present for as many training sessions taking place within their apartment as possible, though Strange later confided with Izuku that it was more likely she was genuinely curious about the nature of his training rather than skeptical of Strange's teaching methods.
Six weeks had now passed since the end of his 'house arrest training' and Izuku honestly felt better for it. He certainly didn't begrudge his mother in any way; he had long since accepted her overbearing, worrying nature for the loving concern that it was. Besides, the short hiatus from a strict training schedule helped Izuku keep his mind focused when it came to schoolwork, which came all the more easier since Bakugo and the rest of his classmates had ceased their belittlement of him once and for all. It had lessened ever since media coverage of the sludge villain incident outed him for supposedly having a Quirk and by now it had faded entirely. He wasn't embraced by the rest of the class by any means, not after so many years of disparagement, but he would certainly take awkward indifference over outright hostility any day of the week. Speaking of class, Izuku recalled being chastised by his teacher for still not formally registering himself with the National Quirk Registry. Right...he would have to do that before the Entrance Exam rolled around.
"Setting your training with the cloak aside," Strange snapped Izuku out of his musings. "You still seem to be having trouble with the Bolts of Bedevilment. The rules of the Mirror Dimension training are not just to maintain levitation above ground and avoid capture, but to also counter my bolts with your own when given the opportunity. Yet this time, as with many times before, you...hesitated."
Izuku merely turned his gaze toward the ground. He felt especially ashamed since he was the one who'd pushed for this kind of training in the first place, and yet...
"This hesitation of yours, it is different than the self-doubt you had to overcome when you first began lessons with me," Strange noted. "There is a twinge of fear I sense within you, Izuku."
"It's just...I'm really eager to learn all that I can and so much more before the Entrance Exam in a couple months, but—!" Izuku bit his lip. "A part of me worries that the more I learn, the more likely I'll end up...corrupted like Ikiji."
Strange raised a brow but said nothing for a good minute. He finally relented with a sigh, sitting down on the steps of the staircase and motioning for Izuku to sit beside him.
"You must have felt it early on then," Strange surmised. "How the power behind ones Bolts of Bedevilment can be steered and fueled by one's emotions, namely: anger and, dare I say, hatred."
"It wasn't long after the first time I successfully did the spell," Izuku admitted. "I forced myself into a state of anger and the results were...more than I had imagined."
"The power you managed to wield frightened you?" Strange asked and a nod from Izuku was the reply. "That is not inherently a bad thing, Izuku. A healthy dose of fear can help a sorcerer better understand the scope of the power they possess as well as motivate them to train more vigorously."
"It's not just that, I understand that stuff!" Izuku shook his head. "I just keep thinking back to Kamar-Taj. When I fought Ikiji. Before you had arrived...he told me my mind was similar to his own, that I was a spitting image of him from just a few years back."
"And you believe that continuing on your current path will endanger you to corruption on a level comparable to Ikiji," Strange concluded.
Izuku shakily nodded his head. "The thought of giving myself over to such darkness...the mere idea of turning against you and the other sorcerers, it...it makes me sick just thinking about it!"
"It's true, there are parallels between you and Ikiji," Strange conceded. "Most plainly of them all is the aptitude for magic you both possess, despite your young ages and relatively early training regimens. Ikiji, like myself, likely noticed the potential for growth you carry and sought to cultivate it for his own agenda."
"So you understand my worries..." Izuku murmured.
"On the contrary, I think your fear is quite unfounded," Strange said with a chuckle.
"How can you be so sure?" Izuku asked incredulously.
"Because in spite of the parallels between Ikiji and yourself, you possess something that fundamentally sets you apart from him," Strange said, thumping a finger against the boy's chest when Izuku looked up at him in confusion. "Simply put, you have a hero's heart, Izuku. Ikiji sought knowledge and power in a vain attempt to alleviate himself of the pain within his heart, whereas you seek knowledge and power to alleviate the pain of those around you, as a true hero would."
"Ikiji led a pitiful life before being brought to Kamar-Taj," Strange continued. "He was not able to rise above his pain and it ultimately consumed him—nay, corrupted him."
"He was corrupted...by his pain?" Izuku asked.
"Power is not the only thing that corrupts, Izuku," Strange lectured. "Everyone, in some way, is defined by their pain. However, it is up to each individual to ensure that they are not dominated by their pain as well."
Izuku frowned and looked back down at his feet. The lessons of pain and the differences and similarities that both set him apart from Ikiji and connected them in some way, it was all a lot to ponder. He still felt so unsure...and it was clear Strange could see that as well.
Anymore ponderings on the matter were cut short when the sudden booming sound of rock-and-roll music unceremoniously thundered throughout the Sanctum, rattling the windows and sending vibrations up the very walls and across the floorboards.
"W-what's going on?" Izuku asked, leaping to his feet.
"Oh no," Strange groaned as he, too, got to his feet, approaching the nearest window to peek out alongside his apprentice. "Don't tell me it's that time of the year already?"
"What?" Izuku asked, his curiosity more than piqued by now. He could see throngs of people crowding the sidewalks outside, all heading past the Sanctum in a single, unified direction. "What's happening out there?"
Strange merely rolled his eyes and stepped away from the window. "This year's Stark Expo," He explained. "I swear, it's practically a holiday throughout all of Manhattan..."
Izuku let out a cross between a gasp and a squeal; Strange wasn't entirely sure. "THE Stark Expo!?" Izuku exclaimed. "The internationally acclaimed exposition helmed by the Number Two American Hero himself: Iron Man!?"
Strange seemed to have forgotten just how much of a superhero fanboy Izuku Midoriya could be.
"Are the rest of the Avengers going to be there?" Izuku asked excitedly. "Oh, I wonder what other heroes are going to be there, certainly there would be lots of recognizable ones given the sheer magnitude of the Stark Industries brand name, not to mention the media presence—"
"Izuku!" Strange yelled, snapping his student out of his mumbling. "You overestimate the hero presence found at a given Stark Expo. The Expo has always primarily been Support-focused. While heroes may appear here and there, expositions, presentations, and demonstrations of the latest technological Support-based wonders are held all over the city."
"Not to mention the countless vendors set up on every street and every park imaginable—" Strange said before suddenly coming to a halt as he began to turn away. He turned to face Izuku with a knowing look; perhaps he could use the boy's enthusiasm and the raucous Expo to his advantage. "Izuku, why don't you take the rest of the day off? Go out and explore what you can from the Expo's vendors."
"I—what?" Izuku blinked, as if he wasn't sure he'd heard his sensei correctly. "Explore the Expo?" Sensations of excitement began creeping up his backside. "You don't want to continue with today's training?"
"I think this would be more beneficial to you, Izuku," Strange said. "Given your state of distress moments ago, it would be unwise for me to force you back into a similarly stressful situation so quickly. Besides that, I think you've earned a day of fun, don't you agree? You don't want every day between now and the Entrance Exam to be a slew of just schoolwork and nonstop training, do you?"
"That sounds amazing!" Izuku exclaimed, pumped with excitement before visibly deflating. "But isn't it too late to get tickets? Aren't those needed to attend the expositions?"
"It may be too late to acquire tickets for the exposition itself, but there are no shortage of public vendors to partake in!" Strange replied. "I'm sure there's plenty to see just up the road from here in Washington Square Park alone."
"Thanks a bunch sensei!" Izuku bowed and prepared to depart right out the front door before pausing. "Don't you want to explore the Square Park, too?"
"No, no," Strange waved his hand dismissively. "Year after year I've put up with the noise of Stark's Expo, and I can hardly tolerate it as is from within my own Sanctum. But before you leave..."
Strange snapped his finger and Izuku's red tunic was instantly replaced by the casual blue pants and black shirt he was wearing before beginning his training for today. Also appearing in Izuku's hand from the snap was Strange's calling card, which was hurriedly slipped into Izuku's pocket. "Just in case," Strange said. "Now off with you!"
"Thanks again sensei!" Izuku said as he pushed open the front door, only to be met with the sharp November chill, causing him to shiver. "H-hey sensei? Mind if I take my cloak with me? I-it's pretty chilly out today!"
Strange paused as he considered his student's request. Izuku thought for a split second that he'd say no before Strange seemingly relented. "Very well," Strange said. "But no using it in public! Who knows what sort of trouble it might land you in!"
Hopefully a day of levity will relieve some of your doubt and fear, Izuku, Strange thought as the boy practically flew out of the Sanctum. Who knows? Perhaps you'll run into one who will help assuage your worries in some way.
Marcus Daniels absolutely despised his life.
Every day that he could remember was a day filled with struggle, one that always ended with him clawing his way back from the brink of despair and into some semblance of sanity. All the memories he had, even from his early childhood days, were ones of hardships and marginalization by his family and peers.
Perhaps he should just end it all, he thought. Of course! Why wouldn't he? Who would possibly miss a Quirkless nobody!? Certainly not the family that had long since abandoned him, and definitely not his peers that did everything in their power to keep him down.
And yet...he continued to struggle. Day after day. The hardships he had faced regularly throughout life—the isolation, the discrimination, the pity—were practically numb to him now. School passed by like a blur, he had scraped his way through college with little recollection of his time there, and even getting accepted into the prestigious research laboratories of Project Pegasus left him with little desire to celebrate his academic achievement and progress.
And while everything that had caused him pain throughout life eventually became numb, the hurt never truly lessened. That pain was seared into his brain, engraved on his very heart, and his resentment—his rage—against the Quirked and society steadily bubbled deep within him, gathering pressure, just waiting for the right moment to blow.
It was only a matter of time, he knew. No one else seemed to, though. Certainly not the bald, pompous Dr. Croit, who repeatedly belittled him in the labs at every given opportunity, much to the amusement of his other coworkers.
To study the different energies of the Universe itself, what a perfect career to have, Marcus thought at the time. Wouldn't becoming a pioneer in such a field inject the perfect semblance of power he needed to fill the void in his black, beating heart? Wouldn't the recognition he'd surely receive from the Stark Expo as a proud member of Project Pegasus dull the ceaseless pain of his measly existence?
"That pretentious Croit," Marcus bitterly seethed, running a hand through his brown, slicked back hair as he allowed a bit of his anger to seep through now that he was alone. Alone and left to finish preparations for Project Pegasus's exposition without any assistance from Croit or the other team members, who went out drinking and celebrating before their big presentation tonight. "He thinks he's such a bloody Godsend with that Atomic Vision Quirk of his, even though I've worked on this project thrice as hard as he has!"
How much longer can I hold this in? Marcus thought dejectedly as he repressed the vehement urge to simply smash every last bit of Project Pegasus's data available and storm off into the night for a drink of his own. A Quirkless man needed every last drop in this world.
"How much longer can you hold it in?" A gravelly voice seemingly read his mind. Marcus spun around, facing a bizarrely robed man with jagged, white hair. The left side of his face was decorated with a scar that ran from eye to jawline. And his eyes—his eyes—were cracked and oddly appeared purple.
"To hold back your anger and hatred is to hold back your honesty," The strange young man said as his hands conjured a bizarre, spinning crimson sigil in the middle of the lab. "I can grant what you desire most...but only if you remain sincere, kind sir."
The sight before him was positively absurd, Marcus's logical mind implored. He should be yelling for security, or phoning police, or simply running, but Marcus didn't budge, entranced by the spinning sigil. And although his lips never moved, his heart and mind seemed to speak as one: Give me the power I've never known. Relieve me of the pain I've always held!
The robed man grinned; it seemed such thoughts were all that were required. The sigil suddenly sped forth and collided with Marcus, who accepted it with wide open arms as his body was immediately set upon and consumed by an unfathomable darkness.