Wanda and Ethan walked silently along the street, her mind troubled by what had happened to Ash. She still doubted the authenticity of the Book of the Dead. Gradually, she couldn't help but ask Ethan cautiously.
"Um... about the Book of the Dead, wasn't it something Ash made up?" Wanda asked.
"I said what Ash talked about was nonsense, but I didn't say he was lying," Ethan replied with a smile. He added, "There's likely a Book of the Dead in this world, but it's probably different from what Ash and you imagine."
Wanda nodded thoughtfully, taking in Ethan's words. Then she remembered something important and asked with a smile, "By the way, I forgot to ask your name."
"My name is Ethan," he replied. His eyes drifted towards Pietro, who was floating behind them, and he rubbed his shoulders. He had given Pietro over to Wanda, whose telekinesis powers were stronger than his own.
Wanda nodded, "Pietro has lost a lot of blood and needs to rest. He can't be of much help for the time being; it's best to let him sleep for a while."
As if to confirm her words, a loud snoring sound suddenly came from behind them.
"Speaking of which, I haven't properly thanked you yet. Thank you for saving Pietro. He's always been reckless. If he'd been left alone in this apocalyptic world, he might have ended up in a zombie's mouth."
Or more likely, someone would have ended up in his mouth, Ethan thought wryly. He shook his head and smiled. "No need to thank me. In saving him, I was saving myself too."
"You're so humble," Wanda said, smiling warmly.
Since childhood, she and Pietro had depended on each other, and she couldn't thank the person who saved her brother enough. Ethan was about to respond when she looked up and said, "Oh, we're here."
The Victorian-style double doors at 177A Bleecker Street exuded a solemn, ancient atmosphere. The carvings on the door frame were intricate and seemed to tell stories of a bygone era. The golden door handle was decorated with ornate patterns, giving off an elegant, sophisticated air.
But as they approached, Wanda and Ethan noticed bloodstains on the white steps at the door. The blood spread from the handle and flowed down, staining the entire staircase a dark red. It was like an ominous mark, the bright red contrasting sharply against the white steps.
They exchanged silent glances, a shared alertness passing between them.
Whoever had attacked Doctor Strange's Sanctum Sanctorum—whether human or zombie—must have known at least some magic.
"Do you know any protective spells? Like the Seraphim Shield?" Ethan asked, touching his chin as he tried to recall what he'd read in the comics.
Wanda nodded with a smile and replied, "Of course." She formed a seal with her fingers and muttered a few words. A pale yellow light glowed around them as she cast the Seraphim Shield. Every mage has a unique image that symbolizes security when casting this spell.
Feeling the warmth of the shield's protective energy, Ethan nodded with satisfaction. Wanda, watching him, was slightly surprised by his knowledge of magic.
"Let's go inside. It sounds like something's happening in there," Ethan said, pressing on the shield.
He pushed open the bloodstained door, and a cacophony of noises immediately filled their ears.
"Please, stop resisting, Wong! I really don't want to hurt you, but I'm starving!" screamed a zombie-turned druid master. With a wave of his hand, he launched several fireballs, each the size of a tire.
The druid's voice was filled with anguish and desperation. His once majestic blue cloak was now stained with blood and no longer reflected its former splendor. His hair, already sparse, was matted and streaked with blood.
Nearby, Wong, bald and bruised, was forming complex gestures with his remaining hand, a mysterious energy swirling around him. He had created a defensive barrier marked by glowing runes. The fireballs hit the barrier, resulting in huge explosions that chipped away at the shield.
Sweat dripped from Wong's brow, his physical strength and willpower waning. Still, he maintained the barrier, silently praying, Dr. Strange, I know you can hear me. Please come as soon as possible. We need you.
Wong knew only Strange's magic could reverse this desperate situation. Otherwise, he'd soon be prey to his former friend.
Wong fought on, maintaining the barrier with his last reserves of strength, all the while hoping for Strange's arrival. But the druid master's next fireball was larger and more powerful; it would undoubtedly break through Wong's weakened defenses.
At that critical moment, a loud voice rang through the Sanctum: "Stop it, Master Druid! I've found a cure for the zombie curse; you can be free from this hunger!"
Ethan's words broke the tension, and all eyes turned toward him. Wanda stared, stunned by his revelation.
The druid master paused, looking at Ethan with a mix of hope and hesitation. Ethan met his gaze and, with sympathy in his voice, held up a small vial of potion. It emitted a soft blue glow, radiating a healing energy.
"This is the antidote, Master Druid," Ethan said gently. "It can help you break the zombie curse and regain your sanity and humanity."
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