The fallen sorcerers' headquarters in Tarot Town echoed with brisk footsteps as David strode purposefully toward the compound's inner sanctum. His typically measured demeanor had given way to barely contained excitement.
Since recruiting Strange—or rather, the entity he believed to be Strange—David's fortunes had undergone remarkable transformation. Prior to Strange's arrival, calamity had been their constant companion. The Twilight Castle headquarters had fallen, and the defected sorcerers they had painstakingly cultivated had been systematically captured. Their intelligence network within Kamar-Taj's London Sanctum had gone dark. Even Mephisto, their infernal ally, had become mysteriously unreachable.
Strange's introduction had initiated a profound reversal. The fallen sorcerers now possessed a coherent philosophical framework, rebranding themselves as "free sorcerers" and "Earth sorcerers." Under Strange's methodical guidance, newly recruited defectors had integrated seamlessly into their ranks, while the original fallen sorcerers—enticed by the Celestial embryo's immense potential—had begun genuinely respecting David's authority.
Information channels had reopened, providing critical intelligence regarding Kamar-Taj, the Eternals, and other mystical factions. The continuous stream of favorable developments almost created its own form of stress—an embarrassment of riches.
David felt unprecedented confidence regarding their ultimate success. After all, momentum clearly favored their endeavors.
A satisfied smile played across his lips as he approached his destination—the interrogation chamber.
The spacious interrogation facility contained numerous individual containment cells. Each compartment appeared deliberately oppressive—cramped, dimly illuminated, and psychologically intimidating. Dark crimson stains marred the walls, and the pervasive metallic scent of blood lingered throughout the facility. The environment had been specifically designed to destabilize prisoners' mental equilibrium through prolonged exposure.
Within each containment cell, an Eternal had been secured with specialized restraints—each one confined in isolation, imprisoned in strategic darkness.
"Damnable creatures, release me immediately!"
"Contemptible mortals, your extinction approaches!"
"When the Celestials acknowledge your transgressions, your insignificant planet will be obliterated alongside you!"
Various Eternals expressed their defiance through curses and threats, while others maintained resolute silence. From David's perspective, each captive represented another step toward his ultimate ascension.
He halted before a particular cell where "Strange" and two additional sorcerers were interrogating a silver-haired woman—Thena, captain of the Eternals.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Thena strained against the wooden frame securing her, her struggles intensifying with each moment. Her pupils had begun transforming to an alarming milky white.
She was losing control again.
Grindelwald, maintaining his Strange disguise, frowned slightly at this development. With precise sling ring manipulation, he summoned several dark blue ethereal restraints. The mystical bindings encircled Thena, gently lifting her from the wooden frame to hover suspended before him.
"Ah... ah..." Thena's unintelligible murmurs emerged between full-body tremors, consciousness clearly slipping away.
How unfortunate, Grindelwald thought with genuine sympathy. He extended his right hand, index finger lightly touching Thena's forehead. As magical energy flowed between them, his finger trembled perceptibly before withdrawing.
Delicate silver-white threads emerged from the contact point, seemingly endless in their extension. Observing this reaction, Grindelwald modified his approach with practiced efficiency. The Eternal captain gradually regained lucidity.
Upon returning to consciousness, Thena's expression registered profound sadness and disorientation. Her condition—Mahd Wy'ry—had plagued her for centuries. Despite exploring countless potential remedies, resolution had remained elusive.
Yet here, in captivity, she discovered her tormentor possessed knowledge that might liberate her from this affliction. The cruel irony was not lost on her—salvation potentially existing in her enemy's hands.
"Thena," Grindelwald addressed her dispassionately, "your condition's nature cannot be unfamiliar to you."
He gestured subtly toward the interrogation chamber's corner where Gilgamesh remained similarly restrained.
"Without your extraordinary inherent resilience and your companion's palliative interventions, you would have degraded into a mindless instrument of destruction long ago."
From within the Eye of Agamotto, the real Doctor Strange observed with growing comprehension. Grindelwald's masterful psychological manipulation extended to exploiting vulnerabilities he shouldn't even know existed. The dark wizard's capacity for gathering and weaponizing information was truly formidable.
Thena maintained resolute silence, closing her eyes to signal categorical rejection of communication.
Grindelwald continued undeterred, clearly accustomed to this resistance. "Pledge cooperation, and I shall restore your cognitive stability," he offered conversationally. "Furthermore, I'll provide permanent remedial methodology to ensure neither you nor your companions ever face such destabilization again."
Thena's eyes remained firmly shut, her posture communicating absolute refusal.
Suddenly—
Click!
The interrogation chamber door swung open as David entered without ceremony.
"Strange, what's our current status?" he inquired, observing the suspended Eternal with evident curiosity.
Thena briefly opened her eyes to assess the newcomer before deliberately closing them again in dismissal.
Grindelwald gestured subtly, establishing a privacy barrier before responding with apparent frustration. "Chief, we've secured all targets, but interrogation yields minimal progress. The subject remains entirely uncooperative."
"What?" David's expression darkened immediately. "She courts oblivion!"
He shook his head in disbelief. "Every prisoner maintains this intransigence?"
The possibility seemed remote—all ten Eternals demonstrating identical resistance strained credibility. One or two particularly resilient individuals would be plausible, but unanimous defiance suggested coordinated strategy.
A predatory gleam materialized in David's eyes as a solution occurred to him. "Resistance becomes irrelevant with soul extraction," he declared with cold determination. "I refuse to believe even their collective fortitude can withstand comprehensive psychic invasion."
Grindelwald masked his amusement with practiced neutrality. You consider this approach novel? How lacking in imagination.
Maintaining his subservient persona, he responded carefully: "Chief, I fear such methodology proves ineffective in this instance."
He sighed theatrically, capturing David's attention.
"Elaborate," David commanded, curiosity piqued.
"As you correctly surmised, not all prisoners maintain equivalent resistance," Grindelwald explained patiently. "However, those demonstrating cooperation lack access to our required intelligence."
"The Celestial embryo's entrance location remains exclusively within Captain Thena's knowledge domain."
David's impatience surfaced immediately. "Then implement soul extraction on her specifically."
"Chief, I've attempted precisely that approach," Grindelwald countered with apparent resignation. "These entities defy conventional categorization as purely living beings."
He gestured toward the suspended Eternal. "Despite apparent intelligence and autonomy, they fundamentally exist as sophisticated constructs—sentient instruments rather than truly independent life forms."
With practiced solemnity, he delivered the crucial deception: "They possess no conventional souls susceptible to mystical extraction techniques."
This fabrication visibly startled David. "No soul?" he repeated, examining Thena with renewed interest.
Grindelwald dispelled the privacy barrier with casual gesture. "Perhaps you should verify personally, Chief."
Without hesitation, David approached Thena. Placing his hand against her temple, he channeled magical energy inward, attempting to penetrate her consciousness. Thena regarded him with undisguised contempt.
What David couldn't perceive—but Grindelwald orchestrated masterfully—was the subtle magical interference preventing effective soul-reading. Grindelwald maintained the charade while simultaneously ensuring his superior's failure, preserving the Eternals for his own purposes.
Perfect, Grindelwald thought with satisfaction. Let him believe they are soulless constructs, when they are in fact so much more. The Celestial within Earth gestated for millennia, nurtured by humanity's collective energy. These Eternals—created specifically to shepherd that cosmic embryo—represent the perfect tools for accessing its power.
He had captured them not merely to locate the Celestial embryo—Grindelwald had already determined its precise location—but to understand the unique mystical signature that would permit safe extraction of its power without triggering premature emergence.
From his prison within the Eye of Agamotto, Doctor Strange desperately sought any means of communication with the captive Eternals. If he could establish even momentary contact, perhaps he could warn them of Grindelwald's true identity and intentions.
He doesn't want the Celestial destroyed, Strange realized with mounting dread. He intends to harness its power without awakening it—potentially causing even greater cosmic catastrophe.
Meanwhile, Druig—the Eternal with mind manipulation abilities—remained perfectly still in his cell, outwardly subdued while inwardly extending his consciousness toward his fellow captives. Though their telepathic communication remained severely constrained by magical interference, fragmented messages passed between them:
...resist...maintain deception...entity not what appears...
As David continued his futile attempt at soul extraction, Thena maintained her defiant glare—simultaneously receiving Druig's fractured warning about the sorcerer claiming to be Strange.
Something fundamentally wrong about him, she thought. Two consciences somehow occupying the same space.
The Eternals' survival—and potentially Earth's—would depend on maintaining their collective resistance until this mystery could be unraveled.
Thena seethed with silent fury. If her powers and physical capabilities weren't so thoroughly suppressed by these mystical bindings, she would willingly sacrifice her existence to obliterate these presumptuous mortals where they stood.
David remained oblivious to her murderous glare, continuing his exploration with growing fascination at the profound differences between Eternal physiology and human composition.
"They possess no conventional souls," Grindelwald elaborated quietly from beside him. "Instead, they contain analogous structures facilitating cognitive functions and consciousness that mimic ordinary sentience."
He deliberately ignored Thena's contemptuous expression as he continued his calculated deception.
"The artificial nature of these quasi-spiritual configurations is unmistakable. Based on intelligence we've gathered, these entities represent specialized guardians engineered by the Celestials."
Grindelwald's voice lowered conspiratorially. "This individual—Thena—has undergone innumerable memory purges. I suspect she remains unaware of how many Celestial gestation cycles she has overseen throughout her existence."
His tone acquired subtle mockery. "Their shared delusion involves returning to their 'homeland' following the Celestial's emergence. In reality, this homeland likely exists merely as implanted motivation. Upon mission completion, they face not homecoming but memory erasure."
Grindelwald gestured dismissively. "Subsequently, they're redeployed to shepherd another cosmic embryo through its developmental cycle."
David withdrew his hand from Thena's temple, shaking his head with reluctant admiration. "The Celestials' craftsmanship truly transcends comprehension."
"Such prowess befits entities born as gods," he added with genuine awe.
"Indeed," Grindelwald affirmed with convincing sincerity. "However, universal equilibrium demands counterbalance. Their reproductive success rate appears extraordinarily minimal."
He gestured toward Thena. "The numerous memory erasures these guardian constructs have endured indicates extensive failed attempts at Celestial birth."
"Her condition—this progressive mental destabilization—results directly from excessive memory reconfiguration causing irreparable structural disruption."
David nodded appreciatively at this assessment. "The 'Eternal' race," he remarked with audible derision. "Perhaps 'Eternally Enslaved Puppets' would prove more accurate nomenclature."
This psychological warfare continued as they conversed before the captive Eternal, their apparent cooperation reinforcing the narrative they constructed about the Eternals' tragic existence.
Thena's expression reflected disbelief, though inwardly her mind reeled from their assertions. Despite recognizing their manipulative intent, certain elements resonated uncomfortably with questions she had occasionally permitted herself—particularly during periods of clarity between episodes of Mahd Wy'ry.
She closed her eyes in rejection of their propaganda, but their exchanged words continued reverberating within her consciousness, preventing mental equilibrium.
"Captain Thena, attend to me."
With eyes firmly shut, Thena suddenly experienced cold pressure against her central forehead. Her eyelids opened involuntarily against her will.
"Through cooperation," David proposed with seductive reasonableness, "not merely will your team survive intact, but we shall liberate you from Celestial subjugation."
"Consider the Celestials' treatment of your kind, Thena," Grindelwald contributed smoothly. "They offer illusory hope of eventual freedom—a promise perpetually unfulfilled."
His voice acquired practiced compassion. "Meanwhile, you function as mere instruments. With what consequence? Endless guardianship assignments, cyclical memory obliteration..."
"Perpetual servitude as sophisticated constructs," he continued relentlessly. "Is this existence what you desire?"
"Would you condemn your companions to this fate repeatedly? Until they develop your condition—teetering continuously at cognitive collapse's precipice—before being discarded as obsolete components by these cosmic entities?"
Their coordinated rhetorical assault demonstrated remarkable persuasive effectiveness. Even the most obtuse observer would recognize their manipulative eloquence.
After absorbing their arguments, Thena deliberately turned toward Grindelwald, completely ignoring David—a calculated slight that caused visible displeasure to flicker across the fallen sorcerer leader's features.
David restrained his wounded pride, recognizing the critical importance of this interrogation.
"I comprehend your position," Thena finally acknowledged, momentarily raising David's hopes.
"However..."
Grindelwald's expression remained impassive, anticipating her subsequent qualification.
"While I have accessed the Celestial embryo's dimensional space previously, such entry occurred through formal petition to the Celestials themselves. Entry required divine power channeled directly as navigational guidance."
Her expression hardened. "Without Celestial direction, accessing the embryonic dimension remains impossible."
A sardonic smile briefly crossed her features. "I could theoretically petition for such guidance, but would you risk permitting such communication?"
David's expression darkened perceptibly at this suggestion. He understood the implicit threat—allowing these "puppets" to contact their creators might attract unwanted cosmic attention. Being reduced to subatomic particles by an angered Celestial represented a decidedly unappealing prospect.
Based on this realization, David felt renewed uncertainty regarding their course. His original strategy for achieving godhood, while perhaps offering reduced probability of success, suddenly seemed considerably less hazardous.
Before he could voice these reservations, Grindelwald interjected with astonishing confidence: "Naturally, should you submit such petition, we shall accommodate it unequivocally."
David's expression registered stunned disbelief.
As he prepared to object, Grindelwald casually established another privacy barrier between them and their captive.
"Strange," David hissed urgently, "do you comprehend the Celestials' destructive capacity?"
"Should her petition attract Celestial attention, we cannot possibly withstand their response!"
"We cannot—the Ancient One can," Grindelwald countered before David could elaborate further.
"Chief, recall our commitments to the assembled fallen sorcerers. Their unified allegiance depends entirely upon the Celestial embryo's promised benefits."
He pressed his advantage. "Should we abandon pursuit of the Celestial, these practitioners would almost certainly turn against us violently."
"Their collective expectations cannot be disregarded," he continued emphatically. "Withdrawal from this endeavor represents practical impossibility."
Curse these fallen sorcerers and their expectations, David thought bitterly.
He deeply regretted his ambitious consolidation of all rogue practitioners under his authority. Leadership's responsibility had become considerably less appealing than anticipated.
Grindelwald perceived David's wavering resolve and continued strategically.
"Chief, circumstances remain less dire than they appear."
"The Eternals—particularly Captain Thena—demonstrate subtle receptivity after learning certain truths about their existence."
"Potential alliance seems increasingly plausible," he suggested. "Furthermore, remember our established partnerships."
Grindelwald paused deliberately, allowing David to process these implications.
He means Mephisto, David realized with growing discomfort.
Something instinctive warned against involving the demon lord in matters concerning Celestial embryos. Should Mephisto discover this cosmic power source, the benefits would almost certainly bypass David entirely.
Perceiving David's internal conflict, Grindelwald pressed further. "Currently, Asgard and Kamar-Taj actively battle over the Celestial embryo."
"Numerous fallen sorcerers already possess this knowledge," he reminded David. "Maintaining secrecy appears increasingly impractical. Mephisto will inevitably discover everything, potentially leaving us marginalized."
David nodded reluctantly, acknowledging the logic.
"Remember, Chief," Grindelwald concluded with calculated emphasis, "only divine-level entities can effectively counter gods."
"We require divine assistance, regardless of its potentially malevolent nature!"
From within his mystical prison, Doctor Strange observed this exchange with growing apprehension. The real danger wasn't David—whose ambition, while destructive, remained relatively straightforward. Grindelwald represented the genuine threat, methodically manipulating multiple powerful factions toward an endgame Strange could only partially discern.
If he successfully brings Mephisto, the Eternals, and the fallen sorcerers into direct conflict with Kamar-Taj and Asgard over the Celestial embryo...
The potential consequences transcended catastrophic, threatening reality's fundamental stability. Strange redoubled his efforts to breach Grindelwald's containment, however marginally. Even the slightest warning might prove sufficient to disrupt this dangerous convergence of cosmic forces.