Strange froze for a moment, then smiled softly. "Thank you."
The Ancient One stood under the corridor, watching this scene, the corners of her mouth slightly raised.
Mavuika stood beside her, also watching the two of them. "Did you guess this outcome early on?"
The Ancient One shook her head. "I couldn't guess, but whoever wins, it is correct."
Mavuika looked at her. "You are certainly open-minded about it."
The Ancient One smiled. "What else can I do if I'm not? This position of Sorcerer Supreme is not something I can just give to anyone; it has its own will."
She turned and walked into the tea room.
Behind her, Mordo and Strange walked out of the courtyard side by side. The young mages surrounded them; some congratulated Strange, others comforted Mordo. Both of their expressions were calm, as if nothing had happened.
On the day the Ancient One officially stepped down, Kamar-Taj held a simple yet solemn ceremony.
There was no grand celebration, no complicated rituals, just the master and disciples sitting in the tea room. The Ancient One handed over the Sorcerer Supreme's Catalyst, the Cloak of Levitation and the eye of agamotto, to Strange.
The Cloak of Levitation was alive; when it was in the Ancient One's hands, it was as quiet as an ordinary piece of cloth.
But when Strange reached out to touch it, the cloak suddenly came to life, pouncing on Strange like a happy dog, wrapping around his neck twice, and then settling steadily on his shoulders.
Strange was startled by the cloak's "enthusiasm" and instinctively reached out to grab it, but the cloak nimbly dodged, fluttering behind his back like a pair of red wings.
Mordo watched this scene, the corners of his mouth slightly raised. "The cloak has chosen the person it likes."
The Ancient One smiled. "It has always had a good eye."
She then handed the eye of agamotto to Strange. It was a golden pendant inlaid with a green gem, emitting an ancient and profound energy fluctuation.
Strange took it and felt a surge of Warmth flowing from the pendant into his body, merging with his magic.
"This is the Time Stone," the Ancient One said. "It is yours now, but remember the cost of using it."
Strange hung the pendant around his neck and looked at the Ancient One. "Master, are you not staying here?"
The Ancient One shook her head. "I have stayed here for centuries; it is time to go out and wander."
She stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the snow-capped mountains outside.
"I want to live on the Himalayas for a while, alone, in peace."
Strange looked at her, was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Very well, the doors of Kamar-Taj will always be open for you."
The Ancient One smiled. "I know."
She turned and looked at Mavuika. "Your Highness, I still owe you that cup of tea."
Mavuika also smiled. "No rush. Whenever you want to return it, that is when I will drink it."
The Ancient One walked up to her and extended her hand. Mavuika grasped her hand, and the two held hands for a moment before letting go.
"Take care," the Ancient One said.
"You take care as well," Mavuika said.
The Ancient One took one last look at Loki, Wanda, and Pietro, nodded slightly, and then raised her hand to draw a circle in the air.
Sparks flew, and a Portal appeared before her. On the other side of the door were snow-capped peaks and a blue sky.
She stepped into the Portal.
The Portal slowly closed behind her, and the sparks dissipated.
The tea room remained quiet for a long time.
Strange stood by the table, his hand resting on the eye of agamotto, looking in the direction where the Ancient One had disappeared, silent. Mordo stood beside him, also saying nothing.
Mavuika picked up the teacup and took a sip.
The tea had already gone cold.
After the Ancient One left, life at Kamar-Taj remained peaceful.
Strange began to take over the duties of the Sorcerer Supreme, patrolling the three Sanctums, training young mages, and dealing with the small monsters that infiltrated through dimensional rifts.
He performed his duties very earnestly. Although he sometimes made mistakes due to lack of experience, his rate of progress surprised everyone.
Mordo became his most capable assistant. The two worked in perfect harmony; one was responsible for frontline combat, the other for tactical support. There was almost no problem they could not solve.
Loki still played chess and discussed magic with Strange every day. His mastery of illusions left a deep impression on Strange, and Strange's understanding of spatial dimensions also benefited Loki greatly. The two were like two puzzle pieces, complementing and inspiring each other.
Wanda and Pietro also felt very comfortable in Kamar-Taj. Every day, Wanda would go to the tea room where the Ancient One used to sit, drinking tea alone and watching the snow-capped mountains alone.
She no longer tried to control her emotions but learned to feel them and accept them. Those dark red Chaos Magic no longer frightened her; instead, they made her feel.
This was a part of her, not a curse, not a gift, just herself.
Pietro continued to run in the mountains every day. His speed was getting faster and faster, so fast that even Strange's magic could not track his trajectory.
Once, he ran to the southern slope of the Himalayas, where he saw a bald figure wearing yellow robes. The figure was sitting on a rock, facing the snow-capped mountains, eyes closed, like a statue.
Pietro did not disturb her. He just watched from afar for a while, then turned and ran back to Kamar-Taj.
He told Wanda, "The Sorcerer Ancient One is doing well; she is watching the snow-capped mountains."
Wanda nodded and said nothing.
A month passed just like that.
That evening, Mavuika was walking in the courtyard. The setting sun dyed the snow-capped mountains a golden red, exactly the same color as her Fire. She took a deep breath and felt the coldness of the snow-capped mountains in her lungs.
Suddenly, a surge of Warmth welled up in her chest.
It was not the scorching heat of Fire, but another, gentler Warmth, like a spring breeze blowing across her skin. She stopped, closed her eyes, and felt the source of that Warmth.
It was Hela.
Her sister was sending a message to Mavuika.
The message was simple, only a few words.
"Completed."
Mavuika opened her eyes, the corners of her mouth slightly raised.
She had waited for this moment for centuries.
...
The New York Sanctum was located in Greenwich, Manhattan. From the outside, it was an old, unremarkable building that looked out of place with the surrounding high-rise buildings.
But upon walking inside, one would discover it was an entirely different World; space here was folded, stretched, and twisted, and the interior was much larger than it appeared from the outside.
Mavuika stood in the hall of the Sanctum, looking around. She hadn't been here for a long time, but nothing had changed: the same stone walls, the same bookshelves, the same candlesticks, the same silence.
She walked to the stone platform and looked at the bronze cauldron. The cauldron was not large, only the size of a washbasin, but the runes carved on its surface covered the entire stone platform, extending to the floor, to the walls, and to the ceiling.