The moment Jason returned to his space island sanctuary, he sensed another presence. The Ancient One stood waiting in his private chamber, her serene expression betraying nothing of her purpose.
"Master Ancient One," Jason remarked with calculated casualness, "if you continue materializing in my quarters without announcement, I'll be forced to design a magical barrier specifically calibrated to your energy signature."
The Ancient One sighed softly. "I never anticipated your mastery over spatial laws would progress so rapidly. Even with the Eye of Agamotto, penetrating your defenses grows increasingly challenging."
Jason chuckled, affecting humility. "Merely rudimentary protections, nothing more. We've barely scratched the surface of what's possible."
In truth, Jason's plans for the space island were far more ambitious than anyone realized. Eventually, he intended to establish a direct connection between the floating sanctuary and Earth, creating a seamless transit system between the two realms. For now, the island's defensive infrastructure remained incomplete—hence the Ancient One's relatively easy access.
"It's been some time since your last visit," Jason observed. "What brings you here today?"
The Ancient One met his gaze directly. "I've come to bid you farewell."
Jason paused, mentally calculating timelines. Based on his knowledge of future events, Stephen Strange's training must be nearing completion. The Ancient One's predestined departure approached—her "death" that wasn't truly an ending.
He glanced at the Eye of Agamotto suspended from her neck. "A liberation of sorts, then. You'll finally shed the burden you've carried for centuries. Congratulations."
The Ancient One noted his lingering gaze on the Time Stone but showed no reaction.
"Master," Jason continued, genuine curiosity breaking through his calculated demeanor, "I suspect you don't truly perish. Where will you go?"
After a moment's hesitation, she nodded slightly. "The Vishanti have summoned me. I believe I shall depart this universe entirely."
Jason's interest piqued. "The Vishanti exist beyond our universal boundaries?"
"Their power transcends individual realities," the Ancient One replied, studying him carefully. "What you encounter in this universe is merely a projection of their true essence. Many cosmic entities operate similarly."
Jason absorbed this information, mentally filing it away for future consideration. "Surely you haven't traveled all this way merely to say goodbye?"
"I wish to propose an arrangement," she stated.
"An arrangement?" Jason raised an eyebrow. "What kind of deal could interest someone departing our reality?"
"After I'm gone, you will assist Stephen Strange as needed and swear never to attempt seizure of the Eye of Agamotto."
Jason feigned indignation. "Master, how you wound me with these baseless accusations! Why would I covet another's possessions without justification? You go too far! An apology is in order, or Kamar-Taj and I shall become adversaries. Though you may not fear me personally, others under your protection might have cause for concern."
The Ancient One's expression darkened, lines of exasperation crossing her normally impassive face. "Are you certain you wish me to apologize? Have you forgotten my impending mortality?"
Jason's eyes widened slightly at the implicit threat. Was she suggesting a willingness to engage in mortal combat?
"Merely joking, Master," he backpedaled smoothly. "But since you've framed this as a negotiation, what compensation do you offer?"
She nodded, seemingly satisfied with his shift in approach. "Complete duplicates of every text housed within Kamar-Taj—thousands of ancient manuscripts and magical codices."
Jason frowned slightly, unimpressed. Nothing I couldn't acquire after eliminating Strange, he thought.
The Ancient One, perhaps intuiting his dismissal, continued: "I can also assist with another matter."
"Which is?"
"Your ambition regarding Heaven. I can facilitate your entrance."
Jason smiled skeptically. "You'll help me access Heaven? How? I hardly require assistance—the alliance would crumble eventually. I doubt angels and demons can maintain peaceful coexistence indefinitely."
"Your demands are excessive," she countered. "The celestial hierarchy won't concede everything simultaneously. I offer to accelerate matters—catalyzing immediate conflict between demonic and angelic forces, expediting their acceptance of your terms. Continued waiting serves little purpose."
She paused before adding, "Should you agree, I'll provide an additional artifact."
"What kind of artifact?"
"A mirror."
"With what properties?"
The Ancient One's lips curved slightly. "I've invested considerable time and magical energy crafting this object. It contains an almost perfect mirror dimension—a replica reality. Though its effect lasts only momentarily, the hellscape contained within should deceive even Lucifer and his lieutenants."
Jason's interest genuinely sparked. "Elaborate."
"Replace the Hell-Heaven portal you've confiscated with a Mirror-Heaven connection. You could capture Lucifer and his infernal army in a single maneuver. While the mirror dimension will collapse within seconds under Lucifer's assault, that should provide sufficient time for you to banish them back to your domain."
Jason studied the Ancient One carefully, surprised by her apparent knowledge of the hell dimension's disturbances. More curious was her apparent certainty of his involvement—a connection he hadn't confirmed.
After momentary consideration, his face brightened with deliberate warmth. "Master, such plan! You should have presented this opportunity immediately rather than testing me. I nearly misinterpreted your intentions! Caring for Strange is trivial. Rest assured, I'll never steal his possessions—you have my word."
After the Ancient One's departure, Jason sank into contemplation. Her visit's true purpose remained unclear. Was a mere promise sufficient motivation? Even if he personally refrained from claiming the Time Stone, other entities—Thanos foremost among them—would undoubtedly attempt its capture eventually.
Could the sorceress truly believe that Jason's assurance alone would guarantee Kamar-Taj's stability and Strange's safety? Perhaps her visit served as a subtle demonstration of power—a reminder that Vishanti and her mirror creation represented significant mystical forces.
Jason shook his head, deciding to defer judgment. Few understood the true extent of his abilities. Even his control over Hell represented merely a fraction of his actual power.
Meanwhile, across New York City, the unlikely alliance of Deadpool, Spider-Man, and Captain America systematically disrupted Stark's clandestine research operations. Their coordinated strikes forced the shutdown of multiple facilities conducting experiments similar to what Peter and Wade had discovered.
Their activities generated ripple effects throughout the information ecosystem. Rumors about Stark's true nature proliferated across New York and eventually throughout America.
One persistent narrative claimed Stark had been possessed by an infernal entity. According to these stories, despite maintaining human appearance, he secretly harvested human organs—consuming hearts raw, devouring livers from living victims, and treating lungs as delicacies.
Another theory suggested Stark's robot army represented preparation for insurrection. Proponents believed he planned to establish a base in Texas, declare war against federal authorities, march on Washington, and seize control of the nation after destroying the White House.
Some whispered that the real Tony Stark had perished in Afghanistan years ago. The government, they insisted, had installed a lookalike to maintain public confidence while systematically appropriating Stark Industries' vast resources and technological innovations. How else could a notorious weapons manufacturer undergo such a radical philosophical transformation? His supposed ignorance about weapons trafficking defied belief—the world's most brilliant mind surely orchestrated such operations intentionally.
Even Obadiah Stane's death, these theorists maintained, represented a calculated sacrifice—a scapegoat offered by shadowy government agencies to maintain their elaborate deception.
The origin of these rumors remained untraceable, yet certain details carried such authenticity that they resonated as plausible even to skeptics. Citizens attempting to verify these claims invariably encountered insurmountable obstacles—digital records that mysteriously vanished, witnesses who disappeared, and official silence that seemed suspiciously coordinated.
A growing segment of the population sensed an invisible barrier separating them from truth—a wall of deception so sophisticated that it could only be maintained through extensive resources and planning. The seeds of doubt, once planted, began to flourish in fertile soil.
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