"I need to know why." Morin frowned slightly. "This doesn't really match my understanding of... investment and return. Or is there some kind of price attached to the position of Sorcerer Supreme?"
"Of course there is a price." The Ancient One spoke calmly. "Countless beings from countless planes are constantly trying to enter Earth to seize the only remaining unowned [Primordial Godhead] in this universe."
She continued without pause.
"The Sorcerers Supreme across the multiverse have formed a loose alliance to protect Earth together. This is a core responsibility of the position. Once you become Sorcerer Supreme, you will be very busy."
"Even with the barrier covering Earth, we sometimes encounter entities that cannot be handled alone. In such cases, we request aid from Sorcerers Supreme of other dimensions through established methods."
"This is the standard practice."
Morin understood.
This was the legendary "call for backup if you can't win."
Think about it.
How many dimensions existed in the Marvel multiverse?
That many Sorcerers Supreme.
If some absurd boss nearly killed the Sorcerer Supreme of one dimension, all it would take was a wave of the hand to summon Sorcerers Supreme from other dimensions.
Then add the Time Stone.
Call in Sorcerers Supreme from different points in time.
Infinity to the power of infinity.
Who could possibly win that?
But that wasn't the key point.
Morin focused on something else the Ancient One had mentioned.
"What exactly are they after on Earth?" he asked. "The only unowned [Primordial Godhead]? What is a [Primordial Godhead]?"
"Those kinds of invaders are rare," the Ancient One explained. "Most intruders seek souls, resources, or other valuables. But if someone truly sets their sights on a Primordial Godhead..."
"Only beings at a terrifying level would even qualify."
"There are many kinds of Godheads. Some are weak, some strong. Some represent the whole, others only branches."
"It's like a great World Tree. A Godhead can be a leaf, a branch, or the trunk and roots."
"Do aerial roots count?" Morin asked.
The Ancient One: "..."
"That's a good question." She paused. "If I ever see the World Tree, I'll be sure to tell you whether it's a banyan."
Then she continued.
"For now, let's stick to what is known."
"Alright." After being cheeky, Morin chose to behave.
"Primordial Godheads represent the fundamental rules that form the universe," the Ancient One said. "Time. Space. Entropy. Life. Death. And others."
"To this day, every one of these rules is controlled by gods or similar beings. They have become the most powerful existences across the multiverse."
"But from beginning to end, there is one rule that has never been controlled by any god or human."
"[Possibility]."
"Possibility..." Morin murmured, drawing in a sharp breath.
"It seems you understand its weight," the Ancient One said. "Yes. Possibility. Infinite futures. Infinite outcomes."
"[Possibility]... is randomness," Morin exhaled.
In that instant, he grasped its significance.
How could it not be important?
The simplest comparison was between humans and AI.
Beyond biology, the key difference was the unknown versus the known.
As long as AI remained bound to code, its behavior was fixed.
Everything was predetermined.
But if it could generate true [Randomness], escape its own programming...
It would become life.
True silicon-based life.
[Possibility] was the line between life and creation.
Between infinite potential and a predetermined script.
Without it, the universe would develop along a single track.
No divergence.
No multiplicity.
No matter how much change occurred, everything would eventually loop back to the start.
Like a story written in advance.
"Yes," the Ancient One said. "[Possibility], [Randomness]-call it what you like. It governs the past, present, and future of all living beings."
"It allows the universe to develop infinitely."
"And Earth is the core location of this Godhead."
"That sounds well above my pay grade," Morin said bluntly.
At most, he could blow up a planet.
With effort, maybe mess around with a small solar system.
But universal primordials?
The multiverse?
With his current strength, even stabilizing something affecting the Milky Way would be a challenge.
"There's no need to be overly afraid," the Ancient One said. "Only a few are even qualified to covet it."
"And they will not intervene personally. If they did, their counterparts would respond in kind."
"They're like nuclear powers on Earth."
"At most, they posture."
"If they truly act, it's through subordinates."
"A real war between them would mean the end of everything."
"If they fight, the universe ends."
"I understand the logic," Morin said, lips twitching. "But it's still stressful to hear."
The reasoning was sound.
But what if someone suddenly snapped?
Even if nothing happened, the pressure alone was unavoidable.
How was this different from guarding a nuclear launch system?
The problem was he didn't even have the launch key yet.
If he did, that would be another story.
"There's no need to worry," the Ancient One said gently. "When necessary, Sorcerers Supreme from other dimensions will come to help."
"And even if that's not enough, other beings' subordinates will intervene."
Morin nodded slowly.
"I think I understand the framework," he said. "But Ancient One... your desire to step down isn't only because of this, is it?"
He couldn't read her mind.
But he could tell whether she was lying.
"No." After a brief pause, the Ancient One nodded. "It's mostly exhaustion."
They entered a room.
With a wave of her hand, two cups of clear, steaming tea appeared.
"Please. Sit."
Morin wasn't in a rush.
He sat cross-legged and drank.
Someone of her standing wouldn't serve inferior tea.
Beyond its quality, he felt a gentle surge of energy and subtle benefits.
In a cultivation world, this would count as a rare spiritual plant.
"I inherited the title of Sorcerer Supreme at twenty," the Ancient One said. "I am now over two hundred years old."
"Supporting other dimensions. Resisting invasions here."
"I haven't rested in a very long time."
"So when I found someone powerful enough, talented enough, and with the right character..."
"It's only natural that I became impatient."
"The future is not fixed."
"Stephen Strange is a possible future Sorcerer Supreme."
"But he doesn't have to be."
"The choice is yours."
"You can refuse, and in ten years, I will pass the title to him."
"You can accept, and in ten years choose not to pass it on."
"You could let him remain a surgeon until you find someone else."
"Or pass it to him anyway."
"In all cases, the decision is yours."
"I see." Morin nodded.
"Of course," the Ancient One added, smiling, "there are benefits."
"Magical materials. Knowledge. Resources from this dimension and others."
"All are available to the Sorcerer Supreme."
Morin continued nodding.
She sipped her tea.
"Any other questions?"
Morin kept a straight face.
Internally, he sighed.
She really wasn't good at negotiations.
Her urgency was practically written all over her face.
Good thing he wasn't the type to exploit someone in crisis.
Otherwise, he could've squeezed her dry.
Not that there was anything left to squeeze.
She was offering the title.
The Eye of Agamotto.
And full access to all magical resources.
Once he became Sorcerer Supreme, everything was open to him anyway.
Giving everything upfront so there's nothing left to extort.
A top-tier move.
More importantly, Morin genuinely respected her.
Two hundred years of nonstop responsibility.
Finding a temporary replacement to retire early might be unethical.
But realistically, could he be worse than the future Doctor Strange?
This was a rare, genuine win-win.
"If I inherit the position," Morin asked, "the Time Stone is mine, right?"
"The Eye of Agamotto is the Sorcerer Supreme's strongest artifact," the Ancient One replied. "Yes."
"Then I have no further questions."
Morin nodded.
He had weighed the pros and cons.
Other than some risk from dimensional invasions, there were no real downsides.
Worst case, he could just call for backup.
If you can't win, you call people.
Analyzed rationally, it was all upside.
Being a nobody butterfly filming videos for experience points had been fun.
But it was small-time.
He couldn't rely solely on the system forever.
Otherwise, how was that different from a salted fish waiting for daily word counts and random hiatuses?
Morin sighed internally.
Useless self-reflection.
"Good." The Ancient One smiled. "Then let's sign a contract and begin the transfer."
With a wave of her hand, a thick stack of documents appeared on the table.
They looked... prepared.
Morin stared at her.
"I hope you understand," she said earnestly. "The future has infinite possibilities. I can't predict what you might do."
"If other Sorcerers Supreme have to clean up later, I would feel guilty."
"So would you."
"These contracts only prevent worst-case outcomes."
"They will not restrict your personal freedom in any way."
"I understand, ma'am."
Morin looked down at the stack.
Over ten centimeters thick.
His eyelids twitched.
"It's good that we understand each other." The Ancient One smiled warmly.
"So," Morin asked, "why is the first page a 'Liability Waiver for the Ancient One'?"
"That..." She took a tactical sip of water. "Is a small precaution."
"In case I believe I've fully retired and am vacationing somewhere..."
"And then receive a call asking me to return to work."
"You understand the analogy."
"...Alright."
Morin didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Just how badly had work traumatized her?
She looked one step away from work-induced phobia.
Then again, working 24/7 for over two centuries...
Even iron will would crack.
Fortunately, the contract stated a ten-year term.
No-
He needed to be careful.
Contract traps were a thing.
Even with her reputation, he couldn't let his guard down.
Knowing someone's face didn't mean knowing their heart.
If he got scammed, where would he cry?
The soon-to-be employee sharpened his gaze.
He summoned a robot from his system space and had it scan the contracts.
At the same time, he checked for hidden clauses through other means.
The Ancient One had been a long-time rival of hell-devils like Mephisto.
And enemies understood each other best.
Who knew if she'd borrowed a few of Mephisto's tricks?
"Taking precautions doesn't mean I don't trust you," Morin said.
"I understand." The Ancient One smiled. "But don't worry."
"I'm using the standard contract template passed down among Sorcerers Supreme."
She gestured.
"[Sorcerer Supreme vs. The Devil: Contract Template 2021 Edition]."
"This was originally designed for contracts with hell-devils."
"It's been refined countless times."
"Devils hate losing, so this template is as fair as it gets."
"Oh."
"And the clauses you once used to humiliate Mephisto in another world..."
"They've been added."
"With a note citing the original source."
"A classic. Timeless."
Morin slowly looked up.
A direct hit.
Just imagining Mephisto's expression as this template spread across thousands of dimensions...
It was deeply satisfying.