The ringing in his ears never seemed to come at a convenient time.
He remembered this sound from the war—the constant din of artillery shells, tank treads grinding over rubble, grenades exploding, and automatic weapons fire creating a symphony of destruction all around him. Even back then, he'd never understood how any soldier managed to sleep through the nights.
With a pained groan, James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes forced himself into a sitting position, his enhanced metabolism already working to clear the fog from his head. He took in his surroundings and realized that only one word could adequately describe how catastrophically things had gone wrong.
Shit.
He found himself sitting in the middle of what could only be described as a war zone in the heart of Hong Kong. Buildings were either severely damaged or actively crumbling to pieces. Crashed and overturned vehicles littered the streets alongside far too many bodies—civilians who had been caught in the crossfire between mystical forces beyond their comprehension.
Bucky grunted as his body protested every movement, but he forced himself to stand, swaying slightly as he witnessed the complete destruction of the Hong Kong Sanctum. The ancient building that had stood for centuries was now nothing more than smoking rubble.
"No..." he whispered, taking a staggering step forward.
His body was covered in cuts and bruises, his clothing torn and bloodied from the battle that had raged for hours. He and Wong had arrived at the Hong Kong Sanctum earlier, and within hours, they'd discovered that Rak'ghouls were emerging from dimensional rifts throughout the city.
The creatures had infiltrated the Sanctum from below, using the underground tunnels to bypass the mystical defenses. Bucky, Wong, and several other sorcerers had managed to contain the initial wave, cutting down the shadow beasts as they emerged.
But their victory had been short-lived.
They'd all known it was only a matter of time before either Kaecilius and his Zealots or Muur and his army of corrupted creatures arrived in force. The defenders had done their best to prepare for the inevitable siege, but they'd been overwhelmed.
"Wong!" Bucky called out, coughing as he tasted blood and concrete dust. "Wong, can you hear me? Anyone? Is anyone still alive out there?"
He received no response—only the distant sounds of screaming and destruction echoing through the ruined streets.
The World War II veteran tried to steady his erratic heartbeat, but each breath sent sharp pains through his chest. Something was definitely broken—ribs, maybe worse.
Bucky fell to his knees, coughing up a mixture of dirt and blood. He pressed his hand against his chest and winced as he felt the damage from Kaecilius's final attack—definitely broken ribs, possibly internal bleeding.
"Magic," he muttered bitterly, remembering how the dimensional shard had punched through his defenses like they were made of paper.
Then he heard it—a deep, resonant rumbling that seemed to come from everywhere at once.
Looking up, Bucky's eyes widened in horror as he saw something impossible manifesting in the ruins of the Hong Kong Sanctum. Reality itself was tearing apart.
"What the hell is that?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
A massive rift had opened in the sky above the destroyed Sanctum, revealing an otherworldly vista that defied comprehension. Through the tear in space, he could see the Dark Dimension—an endless expanse of purple and black energy where gravity seemed to be merely a suggestion. Floating landmasses drifted through the void like islands in an ocean of darkness, and other shapes moved in that eternal twilight, but whatever they were, they were heading toward Earth.
It took Bucky only moments to understand what he was witnessing.
"The Dark Dimension," he breathed, terror creeping into his voice. "Dormammu's coming through."
He doubled over as another wave of pain washed through his battered body, forcing him back to his knees.
"Damn it all," the Winter Soldier muttered, facing what appeared to be the end of the world alone and helpless.
At this point, the centenarian soldier found himself genuinely questioning how his life had come to this surreal moment. The most "exciting" part of his original existence had been volunteering for the war in the 1940s. Never in his wildest nightmares had he imagined that he would be here, nearly seventy years later, as part of a group of actual sorcerers defending the world from interdimensional conquerors.
Speaking of which—where were the other mystics? Kamar-Taj had been sealed and protected after several sorcerers arrived with reports that the Ancient One had successfully repelled an invasion of Rak'ghouls there. But if those defenders had any power left to spare, they were either dead, unconscious, or too badly injured to help.
And what about the New York Sanctum? What had happened there? Was anyone else still alive to fight this impossible battle?
Just as despair began to overwhelm him completely, Barnes heard his name called by a voice he knew better than his own heartbeat.
He turned just in time to be enveloped in Celeste Morn's fierce embrace, her arms wrapping around him with desperate strength.
"Celeste," he gasped, the sound mixing pain, joy, and overwhelming relief. "You're—"
His words were cut off by her fierce, loving kiss, and he responded eagerly for a moment until his battered body reminded him of his current condition.
"Mmph." Bucky gently pushed her back, though his hands remained on her shoulders. "Sweetheart, I can't begin to tell you how happy I am that you're here, but my body is about to give out on me."
"Hold still," she said softly, placing her hands on his chest as the Force flowed through her fingers.
The healing energy eased some of his pain, but it couldn't completely repair the damage. More importantly, it allowed him to focus on the others who had arrived with her—and what was happening in the sky above them.
"We're too late," Mordo whispered, his voice carrying the weight of absolute defeat.
Bucky gritted his teeth and looked back at the dimensional rift that continued to widen. "Dormammu's breaking through."
"Can't we do anything?" Ghost Rider demanded, his flaming skull turning toward the tear in reality. "If the New York Sanctum is still standing, why is he able to manifest here?"
Mordo shook his head grimly. "The Sanctum's defenses have been breached twice already, weakening the dimensional barriers. We're too late. Nothing can stop him now."
But rather than accepting the harsh reality before them, Doctor Strange glanced down at the mystical artifact still hanging around his neck, his brilliant mind racing through possibilities that others couldn't even imagine.
Moving with practiced precision, he brought his ring and pinky fingers together against his thumb while extending his middle fingers and pointing his index fingers upward. Strange then crossed his hands before slowly pulling them apart in a complex gesture.
This action unlocked the Eye of Agamotto, its ancient metal casing shifting and opening like a mechanical flower to reveal the glowing green Time Stone within. He concentrated on forming a connection with the Infinity Stone, spinning his right arm forward to create an ethereal gauntlet of mystical runes around his hand. Extending his left hand toward the artifact, a complex magical circle appeared, its symbols blazing with temporal energy.
In an instant, everything stopped.
Time itself held its breath.
Then, turning his hand counter-clockwise, Strange began to reverse the flow of temporal energy. The destruction around the city started to repair itself in real time—buildings reassembling from rubble, cars flipping back onto their wheels, and most importantly, people who had been on the verge of death were being restored to life. The entire disaster was being completely undone, moment by moment.
Seeing that the spell was working, Strange quickly gestured toward his companions, freeing them from the effects of the temporal reversal so they could move normally within the backwards-flowing time stream.
"What the hell am I seeing?" Bucky asked, his enhanced senses struggling to process the impossible sight of causality running in reverse.
"The spell worked," Strange said, already beginning to run toward the Hong Kong Sanctum as it rebuilt itself around them. "We have a second chance."
The others followed him, though Bucky struggled to keep up until Celeste steadied him with her arm around his waist.
"Hey!" Bucky called out, his voice carrying a mixture of awe and confusion. "What exactly is happening here?"
"Time's running backward, Buck," Ghost Rider said bluntly as he rushed forward to catch up with Strange and Mordo. "The Doc's giving us a do-over."
The Winter Soldier could only stare in amazement as all the devastation he'd witnessed was being erased before his eyes—bodies returning to life, buildings reassembling, fires being sucked back into nothingness.
"Wait, you can actually manipulate—"
"Not now, Bucky," Celeste said urgently, pulling him forward as they ran. "We need to reach the Sanctum before—"
She was interrupted as Bucky was knocked aside by a pedestrian moving in reverse, completely unaware of the temporal manipulation occurring around him. But more importantly, through the chaos of the reversing timeline, they could see that Kaecilius and his Zealots had somehow emerged unaffected by the time spell.
The four mystics looked back in alarm as they realized Kaecilius and his followers were moving normally through the reversed time stream, heading straight for them with deadly intent.
"How are they able to do that?" Celeste asked, her hand instinctively moving to her lightsaber hilt.
"They're drawing power from the Dark Dimension, remember?" Mordo replied grimly. "That realm exists outside normal temporal flow."
"Well, that's just fantastic," Ghost Rider muttered sarcastically.
"Tell me about it," Strange said, his concentration divided between maintaining the time spell and preparing for combat.
Ghost Rider shook his head and stepped forward, his movements slightly awkward as debris reassembled itself around him while he moved through the reversed timeline.
"I'll buy you time," the Spirit of Vengeance said, flames engulfing his skull as he prepared for battle. "Keep the spell going."
As Ghost Rider moved to engage the first Zealot, another robed figure flanked around him, forcing Celeste to leap into action. Her lightsaber ignited with its distinctive snap-hiss, the blue blade meeting the Zealot's dimensional shard in a shower of sparks and mystical energy.
The final Zealot—Kaecilius himself—managed to break through their defenses and launch a surprise attack on Strange and Mordo. The latter reacted quickly, landing a solid kick that sent the corrupted sorcerer stumbling backward.
But Kaecilius was nothing if not persistent, and he immediately refocused his attack on Strange. The fanatic leader drove his boot into Strange's chest, sending the former surgeon sprawling. After recovering from the impact, Strange had to defend himself quickly, blocking a series of dimensional blade strikes while trying to maintain his concentration on the time spell.
After grabbing his opponent's arm, both sorcerers were suddenly thrown backward as several construction barrels—moving in reverse through the air—collided with them. Soon their backs slammed against the wall of a nearby building that was actively rebuilding itself from previous explosive damage.
As the dust settled, Strange felt the hem of his Cloak of Levitation being grabbed before he was hurled bodily out into the street.
Strange had to dodge quickly to avoid being struck by several cars moving backward through the intersection. His head snapped to the side as Kaecilius's fist connected with his jaw, sending stars exploding across his vision.
Meanwhile, Mordo engaged a pair of Zealots in hand-to-hand combat, managing to kick one of them into the street. As the robed figure fell, she was suddenly struck by a manhole cover that was being drawn backward into its proper position, and then a powerful stream of water—flowing in reverse—dragged her into a nearby seafood restaurant. Before she could fully escape the backwards current, glass panels quickly reassembled around her, effectively trapping her inside what had become an impromptu aquarium.
More and more of the destroyed cityscape continued repairing itself around them, with people walking backward to where they had come from in an increasingly surreal tableau. The irony wasn't lost on any of them that a nearby construction site was being dismantled in reverse, essentially undoing progress in order to undo destruction.
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