The Ancient One didn't fault Li Feng for abandoning his cramped Chinatown flat without a backward glance. She saw the fire in him—the hunger to carve a path through magic. Crowded streets, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents sniffing around...it was no place for growth.
At Kamar-Taj, though, she didn't hurl him into lessons immediately. His aura was frayed, exhausted. Instead, she instructed Mordo to prepare a room, while she herself walked the great hall, thumbing through the battered grimoire Li Feng had only half-studied.
Mordo, all discipline and severity, carried out her order with soldierly precision. Li Feng studied him carefully. He knew Mordo's future: disillusionment, betrayal, a crusade against his own. For now, though, he kept his distance. Their paths would cross hard enough one day.
The night passed quietly.
By morning, rested and sharp-eyed, Li Feng followed Mordo into the receiving hall. The Ancient One was waiting, tea already steeped.
She poured him a cup with graceful ease. "A simple delight," she said.
Li Feng lifted it with both hands, oddly humbled. How many could say they'd sipped tea brewed by the Sorcerer Supreme herself?
When he drained it, she returned the grimoire. "Fascinating work," she said. "But fractured. The records belong to another world. Too many gaps. You'll have to rebuild them yourself."
Frowning, Li Feng flipped it open. His jaw tightened. Blank spaces where ingredients should be. Recipes missing key components that didn't exist in this dimension.
One potion listed ten herbs, but only five remained—five empty brackets staring back at him. Am I supposed to fill these in myself?
At least the spells remained intact. And some—spells to accelerate or slow time itself—made even the Ancient One's eyes gleam.
Still, Li Feng's first thought was far less grand. Priority one: a robe. I can't keep dropping into new worlds naked. Either I craft an enchantment, or I learn to live without shame.
He shrank the grimoire to matchbox size, tucked it away, and sat cross-legged before her.
The Ancient One proved as much teacher as master. Every doubt he voiced, she translated into clarity. Only one subject frustrated him: enchanted clothing.
"The knowledge exists," she admitted. "But it's far beyond a novice."
And relics already forged were priceless. Li Feng wasn't a Stark or a Strange. With barely ten thousand dollars left—after buying weights and junk food—he wasn't about to burn it all on a cloak.
By midday, he bowed his thanks. She inclined her head. "When you travel, remember balance. A day away in another realm might cost you a year here."
The warning struck deep. He had seen it himself. Two weeks in Balthazar's world had stolen more than a month on Earth. What if next time a day equaled a year? He could blink and miss the Infinity War entirely.
To truly grasp temporal balance, he would need the Eye of Agamotto. But she would never lend it. Not when half the disciples already whispered about the attention she gave him. And what excuse could he offer? That she had a soft spot for men with belly fat? That rumor would topple her faster than Dormammu.
Other worlds might hold answers. The Harry Potter world, for instance—Hermione and her time-turner. But his ship sailed blind. He never knew where he'd wash ashore.
That afternoon, back in the hall, he showed what he could. Merlin's Circle. Astral projection. His soul rising from his body, channeling energy. Risky—what if she saw the truth, that his spirit wasn't native to this flesh?
But the Ancient One only smiled. "Relax. Magic is delicate work. The more you force it, the harder it resists. Treat it like breathing."
Li Feng exhaled with a small grin. She doesn't see. Good.
Of course, she saw more than she let on. The tilt of his energy, the shadow edging its current. Darkness, yes—but not corruption. Not yet. If his heart stays steady, he need not fall as I once did.
She also knew he couldn't stay here forever. His nature made him a risk. But if he grew strong, he might yet become an ally to Kamar-Taj—insurance, should the great design falter.
Her gaze flicked to the courtyard, where Kaecilius stumbled through drills, eyes hollow. A whetstone for Strange, nothing more. Li Feng's potential was different. With his "vessel," he might even ferry others across dimensions. A Sorcerer Supreme born not of Dormammu's lash, but of journeys no one else could take.
That was for later.
For now, she corrected the flaws in his astral technique. He recorded every word, every adjustment, in his grimoire. With her guidance, his projection could last longer—long enough to deepen his training inside the Circle.
Days passed. From her he learned the basics of the Mirror Dimension. Crude at first—jagged shards folding awkwardly around him. But persistence paid off. At last he held a stable reflection.
It was enough. A private world. A place to train unseen, untouched.
For a traveler like him, it was freedom.
Kamar-Taj Library.
Li Feng forced a polite smile as he handed the Ancient One's parchment slip to the librarian. The man's lips pressed into a thin line, irritation flickering across his face.
Knowledge was sacred here—gathered through centuries of toil and sacrifice. Outsiders weren't meant to touch it. Even as a "guest sorcerer," Li Feng earned only scorn. And this note bore the Ancient One's seal, granting access to her private shelves. That alone deepened the man's resentment.
Li Feng didn't care. Let him glare. As long as the books made it into his hands, the man's disapproval meant nothing. He wasn't about to start a fight inside Kamar-Taj—he wasn't that reckless. And in the back of his mind, he remembered the librarian's fate: someday Kaecilius would cleave him down with twin axes. Maybe I'll save my gloating for then. A scowl's not worth it.
He accepted the volumes and carried them back to his chamber. Pressing them against his enchanted grimoire, he began the tedious process. Unlike Balthazar, who could simply imprint knowledge, Li Feng had to read aloud, letting the tome capture each word in living script.
It wasn't foolproof. Noise crept in. Once, he imagined the book might transcribe a spell punctuated by honking car horns. Mispronounce a word, and the grimoire dutifully etched nonsense. It never corrected him—it only recorded. The burden of editing fell on him.
Still, even with errors, it was faster than copying by hand. Within a month, he'd transferred the bulk of the basic spell texts. The most precious among them were the Ancient One's own treatises on manipulating the flow of time.
Combined with Balthazar's notes, the picture sharpened. These weren't rewinds of the cosmic river—not the Eye of Agamotto's mastery—but techniques to accelerate or stall temporal currents. Enough to ripen an apple instantly or preserve it for a millennium. Not for living beings—not yet—but the principle itself was a revelation.
The thanks belonged to Balthazar. Since the Ancient One couldn't step into another world to deliver it, Li Feng's grimoire became the bridge.
Weeks of study passed. At last, Li Feng began to pack.
The Ancient One intercepted him in the corridor. "You're leaving."
He scratched his head, embarrassed. He'd eaten her food, borrowed her wisdom, mined her library, and given back only one battered book. That same book now sat in his bag. "Did you need something?"
She raised a hand. The walls folded, reality shimmering as she drew them into the Mirror Dimension. "Before you go, I want to see it. Show me how you travel between worlds."
Li Feng hesitated only a heartbeat, then set his bag aside and stripped off his outer layers.
"One thing, Master. I never know how time flows while I'm gone. Supplies—especially food—rot. I can afford a little bread, but…" He patted his belly sheepishly. "Money's tight."
Her eyes softened. To her, a few rations were nothing. She could have fed him for a lifetime, had she chosen.
Prepared at last, Li Feng slid the Sling Ring onto one hand, the ruby-set ring forged from Sun Long's stone onto the other, and clutched his grimoire tight. He drew a deep breath, summoned the storm within, and began. Agony tore through him as sparks carved a circle in the air.
A blue-white portal bloomed, laced with a twisting filament of green. It flared, lunged—and swallowed him whole. His discarded shorts crumpled to the floor.
The Ancient One stood silently, hands clasped, tasting the residue in the air. Envy slipped through her calm. Such a gift. A bridge across infinite worlds. Had I possessed such a vessel, I would never have needed the Dark Dimension.
Moments later, another portal erupted open.
Li Feng tumbled out—naked, face rough with stubble.
The Ancient One blinked. By her reckoning, he had been gone mere seconds. Yet the man before her looked months older.
He steadied himself, pulled an overcoat from his bag, and arched a brow. "You're not planning to camp out in my room every day waiting for me, are you?"
"I haven't left," she said evenly. "To me, you vanished only moments ago."
Li Feng froze. "…So I spent half a year in another world, and here only seconds passed?"
Her gaze sharpened. "Half a year? Then you used the time well. You're growing more comfortable with the power." She leaned forward. "If you are not too weary, tell me—what world did you walk?"
Li Feng sighed, sat heavily on the bed. "Same rule as always. It had to be an Earth. One with magic woven into its bones."
Slowly, he recounted. An Earth scarred by civil war. A soldier named Jonah Hex, betrayed, cursed with the power to speak with the dead. Li Feng had followed whispers to the Raven tribe, learning their ritual—touch a corpse, draw its soul back briefly from the underworld.
A crude trick, really. A variation on astral projection. The living saw a lunatic raving at cadavers. But to him, the spirits shone clear.
The tribe had other "remedies" too—doses of narcotics before surgery, half medicine, half hallucination. He'd passed on that.
No, the only gift he carried back was the communion with the dead—and the revelation of warped time. Half a year there. Seconds here.
He chuckled ruefully.
The Ancient One urged him to rest. He declined. His path was already set.
Back in New York, stepping through a portal, Li Feng's mind was already turning to his next move.
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