Mirror Dimension — New York Sanctum
The golden ropes binding Daniel burned away like mist in sunlight.
In their place stood a figure crowned with a circlet of blackened gold, his fur shimmering under the fractured light. Armor the color of midnight hugged his frame, plates etched with clouds and dragons. In his hands, a black iron staff rested casually on his shoulder — though the Mirror Dimension itself seemed to bow under its weight.
The Ancient One straightened, reading the energy rolling off him. This isn't a possession. This… is him.
The figure's golden eyes fixed on her, unblinking. "You must be the one who thought you could put me in a box," he said, his voice rich with amusement. "I don't like boxes."
"I am the Sorcerer Supreme," she replied evenly. "And you are a threat to this reality."
He grinned — sharp and feral. "Reality is just a story you're used to telling yourself. Let me tell you a different one."
Without warning, the staff whirled from his shoulder, lengthening in a blink. A strike meant to crush the floor at her feet came from thirty meters away.
The Ancient One flicked her wrist — the ground folded like origami, the blow passing harmlessly into a wall that had not been there a second ago.
But the wall split down the middle. The staff punched through, shattering it like thin ice.
"You break things well," she observed.
"Things break when I hit them. That's not skill, it's nature." He spun the staff, letting it shrink back to the size of a walking stick.
The world lurched. The Mirror Dimension folded and re-folded — streets became ceilings, ceilings became rivers of glass. The sky was a kaleidoscope of shards.
Dozens of Ancient Ones stepped from the reflections, each armed with an Eldritch whip.
Wukong's brow lifted. "Cute trick. Let's see how long it lasts."
He plucked a single hair from his head, blew on it, and tossed it into the air. In an instant, the chamber filled with him. Hundreds of golden-eyed warriors, each twirling a staff.
"Let's play 'Spot the Real One.'"
The Ancient Ones attacked in perfect sync, whips snapping through space. Clones fell — but each burst into smoke, reappearing behind her. The real Wukong stayed just far enough away, leaning on his staff like this was a casual stroll.
The Sorcerer Supreme shifted tactics. The floor liquefied into a river, pulling his clones into a whirlpool. Wukong didn't move. The water rose around him, then froze into crystal.
For a moment, he stood imprisoned in the transparent block.
The Ancient One tightened her fingers. The block fractured, slicing into a hundred spinning shards meant to tear him apart.
A laugh came from behind her. "Oh, that's clever — freezing me while you talk to my reflection."
She turned sharply. The Wukong in the ice shattered into smoke. The real one crouched on the mirrored sky above her, upside-down, grinning.
"You're going to have to try harder, bald lady."
She struck without warning, opening a golden mandala that spat out a beam of pure force.
Wukong slammed his staff into the beam, meeting it head-on. The ground beneath them buckled, folding into itself.
Her expression didn't change. "You resist magic."
"I ignore magic," he corrected, pushing forward. "Your pretty light show doesn't mean much to me."
The staff grew — fifty feet, a hundred — until it smashed through the very sky of the Mirror Dimension. Glass-like shards rained down, floating in slow motion.
He vaulted upward, landing on a shard as big as a street. With a single step, he was behind her, staff swinging in a lazy arc.
She barely raised her shield in time. The impact threw her across the warped street, cracks splintering through her construct.
"You're strong," she admitted, getting to her feet.
"I'm bored," he replied. "Strong, bored — easy to confuse."
"You think this is a game?"
"Everything is a game," he said, advancing. "The difference is, I don't lose mine."
---
The Final Exchange
Realizing brute force wouldn't contain him, she bent the Mirror Dimension inward, collapsing the space into a fractal prison — infinite repeating cells that looped endlessly.
He stood at the center, studying the walls. "A maze."
"A prison," she corrected.
He tilted his head. "You can't cage the wind."
Before she could respond, he struck the wall once. The staff's tip glowed faintly — not with magic, but something older, heavier. The cell walls fractured. Another strike, and they shattered completely, the shockwave hurling them into a swirling void.
When the space settled, he was gone.
The Ancient One stood alone in the empty Mirror Dimension, the air still humming with the echo of his laughter.
---
To be continued…