In the main hall of the Golden Palace, a grand banquet was underway. Despite the magnificence of the occasion, the attendees maintained a respectful hush, creating a pocket of space and silence around the distinguished figures at the front of the hall—God King Odin and the Sorcerer Supreme.
"Ancient One, what do you think of my son?" Odin asked, his voice carrying easily through the quiet hall.
Upon hearing Odin's question, the Ancient One glanced at Thor, noting the prince's attentive gaze. A slight smile played across her lips before she answered with measured deliberation.
"Very good. A seedling with great potential," she commented. "There is certainly a worthy successor to Asgard."
A smile of satisfaction spread across Odin's face at her assessment. In their long history, he and the Ancient One had often found themselves at odds, their conflicts typically ending in stalemates rather than clear victories for either side. But through these encounters, Odin had developed a profound understanding of the Ancient One. Coming from a being who had touched the very fabric of time, such praise carried significant weight.
He felt vindicated. His son Thor was indeed exceptional—perhaps this was simply the fervent hope that all parents harbor for their children, but Odin believed it to be truth.
"Odin," the Ancient One said, her tone shifting subtly as the pleasant atmosphere between them seemed to reach its zenith, "this time, I wish to borrow something from you."
"What might that be?" Odin asked, curiosity evident in his voice.
"The Dragon's Treasure."
The hall seemed to grow colder at those words. Odin's brow furrowed deeply, his earlier warmth evaporating. He clearly hadn't expected such a request from his guest.
The Dragon's Treasure might sound unfamiliar under that name, but by its other designations, it was well known throughout the cosmos—the Cosmic Cube, or more directly, the Space Stone.
"Why would you seek this particular artifact?" Odin asked, his tone carefully controlled as he set aside his previous amiability. "You should know that multiple Infinity Stones should never appear in one place."
He leaned forward slightly, his single eye fixed on the Ancient One. "Furthermore, your mastery of the Time Stone has reached extraordinary depths. The Space Stone would only interfere with that connection, possibly to your detriment."
Though Odin didn't explicitly refuse, the implication of rejection resonated clearly in his words.
The Ancient One didn't appear surprised by this response, as if she had anticipated his reluctance.
"Odin, this is not for me," she clarified. "Lockhart needs to borrow it. It is very necessary."
Her final words carried a weight of significance, the tone suggesting an unmovable determination.
Hearing this, Odin studied Lockhart, who remained engaged in conversation with Thor across the hall. Of course, Odin understood the meaning behind the Ancient One's emphatic statement. He had received reports of her activities prior to this visit—the systematic confrontation of dimensional entities, the display of overwhelming power.
Now it seemed clear that these actions weren't merely meant to demonstrate her strength to Lockhart, but also to send a message to Odin himself.
His thoughts racing, Odin glanced at Lockhart again. The next Supreme Sorcerer.
"Ancient One, what are your plans going forward?" Odin asked, deliberately sidestepping her request for the moment.
"I have complete confidence in Lockhart," she replied with a serene smile. "With him, I believe Kamar-Taj will flourish without my constant oversight. I can pursue what I must do next."
Odin couldn't hide his surprise. He hadn't expected the Ancient One to place such unbridled trust in Lockhart. The challenges Kamar-Taj would soon face were not insignificant—the Dimensional Demons numbered not in ones or twos, but in dozens, potentially hundreds.
With the Ancient One wielding the Time Stone, such threats could be held at bay. But Lockhart? Even if he could use the Time Stone, Odin remained skeptical. The power of any tool, no matter how mighty, depended entirely on its wielder.
The Ancient One's extraordinary abilities stemmed not merely from possessing the Time Stone, but from her profound understanding of its nature. Odin had never encountered anyone with a deeper comprehension of time itself. This was why she could obliterate Demon Gods with apparent ease.
Odin had learned this lesson the hard way. Eventually, he had withdrawn Asgardian presence from Earth, concluding peaceful arrangements. He had even decreed that Asgardians should limit their visits to Earth—largely out of respect for, and perhaps fear of, the Supreme Sorcerer.
It was precisely this history that had prompted Odin to host this banquet upon the Ancient One's arrival, a gesture of goodwill. He had no desire to engage in conflict with her at this juncture in his life. He was aging, and a battle at full strength would likely plunge him into the Odinsleep regardless of the outcome. And against one who controlled time? Age was a particular disadvantage.
Yet now, hearing the Ancient One speak of stepping aside, Odin felt a sense of disbelief. Could this Lockhart truly reach the same heights as the Ancient One? The question loomed large in his mind.
"Do not concern yourself," the Ancient One said, noting his hesitation. "I have complete faith in Lockhart. Or rather, you should have faith in my judgment."
At these words, Odin's mind flashed back to his first encounter with Lockhart—appearing suddenly via the Rainbow Bridge's teleportation alongside Thor, his aura distinctly incompatible with Earth's energy. Odin had been prepared to intervene, but the Ancient One had intercepted.
With her involvement, Odin had naturally stood down. Lockhart had posed no threat to Thor, nor had he interfered with Odin's plans. But reflecting on that moment now raised questions. It seemed unlikely that Lockhart had known of the Ancient One then, and perhaps even the Ancient One had been unaware of Lockhart's existence before his arrival.
Yet she had acted. Why?
The answer seemed obvious now. The Ancient One commanded the power of time itself.
"What did you see?" Odin asked carefully, raising his wine glass in a casual gesture while his eye remained sharp.
Before the Ancient One could respond, he added with emphasis, "You must tell me something."
Though Odin preferred peace with the Ancient One, he would not yield when circumstances demanded firmness. His title as Lord of the Nine Realms had not been granted—it had been earned.
"What did I see?" the Ancient One echoed softly, her eyes taking on a distant quality. "I didn't see anything."
She paused, her voice dropping almost to a whisper. "There was nothing but nothingness."
Though her answer seemed evasive, Odin's pupils contracted sharply. The Ancient One's stature placed her beyond the need for deception.
So what did "nothingness" signify? A void where something should exist? Reality obscured by a greater power? Or perhaps a path that escaped the constraints of destiny itself?
Odin's gaze drifted once more to Lockhart, still deep in conversation with Thor, seemingly oblivious to the weight of the discussion concerning him.
"Gods... Twilight," the thought flashed through Odin's mind, touching on his deepest fears.
The prophecy of Ragnarök had been revealed to him after he sacrificed his left eye—perhaps a curse disguised as enlightenment. He had attempted to prevent it, but the World Tree's predictions had proven infallible thus far.
The sensation of impending doom had haunted him for centuries.
"Are you certain?" Odin asked, struggling to reconcile the idea that Lockhart might be so pivotal.
"Absolutely," the Ancient One replied without hesitation. "Otherwise, I would never entrust Kamar-Taj to him." She took a measured sip of wine, gently swirling the goblet as she spoke.
"In that case..." Determination hardened in Odin's eye.
"I agree to your terms. The Space Stone will be temporarily loaned to Lockhart."
He paused, his expression grave. "But I also have a request..."