"Teacher, are you certain I should undertake this alone?" Strange asked, his voice carefully calibrated to convey apprehension. "I confess substantial misgivings about this approach."
He paced anxiously across the private chamber. "Perhaps you should continue utilizing my identity. It's yielded considerable success thus far."
The Doctor Strange currently speaking was not the fully realized Sorcerer Supreme of future years. He had infiltrated the fallen sorcerers as a covert operative—nervous, certainly, but bolstered by Grindelwald's guidance.
Yet Grindelwald's manipulation of Strange's identity had expanded far beyond the initial parameters. First, the dark wizard had systematically indoctrinated defecting sorcerers from Kamar-Taj. Subsequently, he had assisted David in consolidating power among the fallen sorcerers. Currently, "Strange" occupied a position as the second or third most influential figure within their hierarchy.
As events escalated, Strange increasingly suspected Grindelwald might be performing a genuine defection rather than mere infiltration. This possibility terrified him—would he become a liability requiring elimination? Would he find himself permanently entangled in this deception with no extraction route?
His panic had temporarily subsided after establishing communication with Lockhart, who assured him everything proceeded according to design. This reassurance, however insufficient, had at least prevented complete destabilization.
Until today—when Grindelwald revealed his intention to deceive Mephisto himself. The notion of deliberately manipulating a dimensional demon lord represented an entirely new magnitude of risk.
"Dismiss these concerns, Strange," Grindelwald responded with characteristic nonchalance, his smile revealing nothing. "I've imparted all necessary knowledge and methodologies."
He reclined in his chair with casual confidence. "Any critical information has been thoroughly conveyed."
"Why this anxiety? Remember my fundamental instruction—such emotional indulgence serves only as exploitable vulnerability."
In truth, Grindelwald had extracted nearly everything of value from the fallen sorcerers. His operation with Lockhart had yielded precisely what they sought—the pathway toward godhood that David possessed.
Beyond this, only one asset remained particularly valuable: the alliance with Mephisto. More specifically, this connection provided access to dimensional boundaries that would ordinarily remain inaccessible. The demon lord could be exploited as an entry vector, then eliminated once his utility expired.
Grindelwald observed Strange's troubled expression, immediately comprehending his unspoken concerns.
"My personal involvement remains impossible for this particular engagement," he explained patiently. "Mephisto's legendary cunning would almost certainly detect my mystical signature beneath any disguise, regardless of its sophistication."
He stood, crossing the room to place a reassuring hand on Strange's shoulder. "Consider your extensive apprenticeship—you've observed my methodologies, internalized necessary techniques, and mastered required knowledge."
His voice adopted encouraging warmth. "Your capabilities substantially exceed your self-assessment. Furthermore, this represents Mephisto's initial interaction with you. Minor nervousness appears entirely natural under such circumstances—perhaps even advantageous."
Grindelwald's expression shifted to reflect calculated sincerity. "Remember our fundamental relationship with Mephisto—we function as allies, not subordinates. Our respective positions maintain parity."
Strange's expression gradually returned to controlled composure. The situation had progressed beyond any possibility of refusal.
Nevertheless, he maintained his performance of reluctance—Grindelwald typically responded more generously when encountering resistance. Strange increasingly hoped for this undercover assignment's swift conclusion.
His current position felt precarious—balanced at a volcanic crater's edge, slowly roasting from proximity to destructive forces. He remained uncertain whether Lockhart and Grindelwald operated independently or collaboratively toward some grand design. Either way, the slightest misstep might prove irrevocably fatal.
"Proceed, Strange," Grindelwald encouraged, his smile suggesting private amusement. "We approach the operation's conclusion. Upon completion, you'll return to Kamar-Taj celebrated as a genuine hero."
"Indeed," Strange acknowledged without enthusiasm.
Perhaps some practical compensation might better reflect the extraordinary risks I'm undertaking, he thought irritably.
Grindelwald's eyes narrowed subtly, seemingly perceiving Strange's unvoiced sentiments. "Rest assured," he added casually, "the mystical knowledge you've acquired from the fallen sorcerers will receive appropriate contextual recategorization. You may subsequently implement these techniques without institutional repercussions."
This statement generated genuine satisfaction within Strange. He momentarily considered requesting additional compensation commensurate with his substantial risk exposure.
Observing Grindelwald's suddenly dangerous expression, however, he immediately reconsidered this impulse. "Have no concern, teacher," he acquiesced quickly. "I shall handle this responsibility with appropriate diligence."
"Mission success remains absolutely guaranteed," he added with newfound determination.
Despite his outward reluctance, Strange harbored secret anticipation regarding this unprecedented challenge. Had he possessed a truly cautious disposition, he would never have accepted this perilous infiltration assignment initially.
The prospect of deceiving a dimensional entity—particularly one of Mephisto's notorious reputation—presented an irresistible test of his developing abilities.
Grindelwald observed Strange unconsciously moistening his lips, detecting unmistakable anticipation beneath the anxiety. This reaction generated considerable satisfaction.
Despite his occasional avarice and characteristic arrogance, Grindelwald assessed, his boldness balanced with appropriate caution renders him exceptionally suitable for substantial responsibility.
Even his acquisitive tendencies might prove advantageous under proper direction.
"Proceed now," Grindelwald instructed with finality. "David awaits your arrival. The remaining operational elements rest exclusively within your jurisdiction."
Strange nodded sharply before departing with purposeful strides.
Within an unremarkable London coffeehouse, David occupied a corner table, absently stirring his beverage while Strange seated himself adjacent.
"Chief," Strange inquired cautiously after sampling his coffee, "does your confidence extend to Mephisto's acceptance of our proposed conditions?"
His tone carried deliberate skepticism.
David maintained momentary silence before responding candidly. "Certainty eludes me as well."
"However," he continued with strategic calculation, "current circumstances create temporary dependency upon our resources. This represents limited but genuine leverage."
Strange nodded thoughtfully at this assessment before closing his eyes, ostensibly entering meditative preparation.
David continued mechanically stirring his coffee, gaze unfocused as his thoughts drifted inevitably toward their ultimate objective.
The Celestial embryo.
Divine ascension.
Each contemplation of these possibilities generated profound yearning within him. The prospect of achieving Celestial-level existence represented ambition's ultimate fulfillment.
Suddenly, two figures materialized at the table opposite them without conventional arrival—simply transitioning from absence to presence between moments.
One appeared elderly, the other middle-aged. The senior figure wore impeccable traditional British attire, a polished walking stick resting against his chair. His companion—sharp-featured and attired in precisely tailored charcoal gray—regarded them with predatory assessment.
David's pupils contracted involuntarily while Strange experienced visible composure disruption.
"Mephisto," David addressed the elderly manifestation directly, "identify your companion."
Uncertainty edged his typically commanding tone.
"Surely introductions prove unnecessary among associates," the disguised Mephisto replied with unsettling joviality. "Previous acquaintance exists between all parties present. Indeed, his recent intervention facilitated your extraction from Kamar-Taj's jurisdiction."
He gestured elegantly toward his companion. "May I present Dormammu, Lord of the Dark Dimension."
"I've specifically requested his presence to facilitate our collaborative enterprise's completion."
This revelation transformed David's expression to undisguised displeasure.
While confident in managing negotiations with a single extradimensional entity's avatar, simultaneous engagement with two such beings—particularly when one was Dormammu—fundamentally destabilized previously established power equilibrium. Miscalculation under these conditions might result in catastrophic consequences.
Internal resentment toward Mephisto intensified as David prepared confrontational response.
Strange interrupted with subtle physical signal—a restraining touch suggesting temporary forbearance.
Trusting Strange's judgment, David reluctantly suppressed his immediate reaction.
Strange himself maintained absolute stillness, regarding both dimensional entities with analytical observation, his expression revealing nothing.
Uncomfortable silence expanded between them, atmospheric pressure seemingly intensifying with each passing moment.
Mephisto's expression remained placidly confident, suggesting predetermined outcome certainty.
Finally, Strange broke the oppressive quiet.
"Dormammu's inclusion, while unexpected, presents no fundamental objection," he stated with surprising authority.
"Our established protocols remain applicable regardless of participant expansion," he continued smoothly. "Contractual formalization precedes substantive negotiation."
"Upon appropriate documentation execution, meaningful discussion may commence."
From within his mystical prison in the Eye of Agamotto, the real Doctor Strange observed with mounting horror. The imposter wearing his face was now positioning himself to negotiate with both Mephisto and Dormammu simultaneously—a dangerous convergence of cosmic powers that could only serve Grindelwald's hidden agenda.
If Grindelwald succeeds in bringing these dimensional lords into his scheme involving the Eternals and the Celestial embryo, the consequences would be catastrophic beyond imagination, Strange thought desperately.
He redoubled his efforts to break through his containment. The web of deception was becoming more complex with each passing moment, and soon it might be impossible to prevent the convergence of powers that Grindelwald was orchestrating with such masterful precision.
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