Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

At first, the Ancient One had been skeptical of Evenson’s theory about the Dark Ascension.

He had presented her with an enormous amount of evidence, and she had agreed to cooperate with him, but evidence from a single source was still just that. She had no intention of accepting his theory without verification.

Fortunately, verifying it wasn’t difficult.

All she had to do was wait.

If the world truly was becoming more dangerous, as Evenson claimed, then events would eventually prove him right.

Now, less than a month had passed since the Chitauri invasion.

In that short span, a Child of the Dark had appeared, something that should have been extraordinarily rare. A powerful demon’s scheme had nearly succeeded.

The Ancient One’s doubts had begun to fade.

"No matter when a crisis arrives," Evenson said as he approached, "we always feel as though it came too soon. That’s why we have to be prepared before it happens."

The Ancient One nodded.

Evenson glanced at her.

"So, how did your field trip go? Happy with your students?"

The Ancient One sighed.

"Don’t remind me."

She had looked perfectly composed moments ago. Now she seemed genuinely exhausted.

"Honestly? It was terrible."

"I never expected them to struggle that badly against an ordinary human army."

She had spent years listening to her students lecture confidently about how primitive the mundane world was.

Apparently, confidence had not translated particularly well to the battlefield.

"Human army?" Evenson found the description almost amusing. "The enemy wasn’t exactly a disorganized mob, but they weren’t an elite military force either. The heaviest weapons they had were machine guns and autocannons."

"They had no artillery support. No armored formations. No air strikes. No missile bombardment."

He spread his hands.

"If your students had to fight a modern military using combined-arms tactics, they’d do even worse."

The Ancient One rubbed her forehead.

Evenson wasn’t finished.

"And Kamar-Taj can’t keep relying on you to hold everything together."

His gaze shifted toward her.

"You should train a real disciple."

The Ancient One’s expression changed slightly.

She knew exactly what he meant.

Not another student taught the basics of sorcery.

A true disciple.

Someone she would trust with the deeper mysteries of magic.

"You know what my true magic is," she said quietly. "It’s not exactly something I can safely pass on."

The Ancient One’s greatest power came from the Dark Dimension. To stare into an endless abyss without allowing it to consume you was not a skill just anyone could learn.

"I once had a disciple," she continued. "He was extraordinarily talented and eager to learn. He could have become something remarkable."

Her expression darkened.

"But after he came into contact with the power of the Dark Dimension, he fell. That power destroyed him."

"I know."

Evenson took a slow breath.

"You refuse to teach them your true power because you’re trying to protect them. I understand that."

He looked toward the battlefield in the distance.

"But we need high-end combat power."

He began walking as he spoke, gesturing occasionally.

"Imagine the next time the Chitauri invade Earth. Suppose they don’t use a convenient shortcut. Suppose they arrive the normal way, with an actual fleet."

He shook his head.

"The Avengers we have now might not be enough."

"And your students?"

He gave a humorless laugh.

"In a war on that scale, calling them cannon fodder would be generous."

The Ancient One rubbed her temples.

"I’ll consider your suggestion."

She didn’t seem offended by his bluntness.

The Battle of New York was still fresh in everyone’s memory. They had been fortunate that the sorcerers remained inside the Sanctums, concentrating on containing the portals. If they had gone into the streets and fought the Chitauri directly, the memorial services might still be going on.

"But finding someone with both exceptional talent and an unbreakable will isn’t easy."

"Difficult doesn’t mean impossible."

Evenson smiled.

"If you don’t look, you’ll never find one."

The Ancient One stared at him for a moment.

She was used to being the one handing out words of wisdom.

Getting one thrown back at her was apparently less pleasant.

"This requires careful consideration."

"Fair enough."

Evenson shrugged.

Talented people weren’t exactly weeds. You couldn’t pluck a suitable genius out of the ground whenever you needed one.

They would have to search.

The Ancient One’s attention shifted toward Locke, who was lying nearby, barely clinging to consciousness.

"Now tell me something else."

She nodded toward him.

"Why did you insist on keeping him alive?"

"It’s part of a contract."

Evenson looked mildly irritated.

"I have to deliver Locke to Hell."

He paused.

"Actually, since you’re the all-powerful Sorcerer Supreme, could you open a portal directly to Hell? It would save me some trouble."

The Ancient One shook her head.

"I can open many kinds of portals. None of them lead directly to Hell."

Then she looked at him.

"Can you?"

"Funny story."

Evenson spread his hands.

"I can open portals too. None of mine go to Hell either."

The Ancient One thought for a moment.

"You may not actually need a portal."

She glanced at Locke.

"If you kill him here, he’ll naturally return to Hell."

"That would work for most clients."

Evenson bit his lip, clearly losing patience with the situation.

"Unfortunately, mine is picky. He specifically ordered me to deliver Locke to Hell."

He pointed toward the demon.

"This is only an avatar. If I kill it here, Locke’s personality will be erased immediately. What returns to Hell is the authority contained within him, not Locke himself."

The Ancient One’s brow twitched.

"That sounds like a very precise contract."

She was beginning to understand who this mysterious client was.

"A demon from Hell?"

Her eyes narrowed.

"Mephisto?"

"That’s the one."

Evenson gave a bitter smile.

"Breaking a contract with that old bastard isn’t exactly something I recommend."

The Ancient One studied him.

"How did you end up making a deal with him?"

She sounded genuinely puzzled.

Stories about outsmarting demons and walking away with their treasures were fairy tales. Anyone who truly understood demons knew better than to bargain with them.

The more cunning the demon, the more likely you were to lose everything while thanking them for the privilege.

"A friend of mine."

Evenson’s expression grew distant.

"He’s a good man. A much better one than I am."

"Mephisto took his soul."

Evenson looked down.

"The only way to get it back is to complete this deal."

"The only way to return his soul to the living world?"

The Ancient One immediately caught the wording.

"You mean you intend to resurrect him?"

"He shouldn’t have died."

Evenson’s jaw tightened.

The Ancient One was silent for a moment.

"Losing a friend is never easy."

Her voice softened.

"But people like you and me should understand something. There is no such thing as someone who should or shouldn’t die."

"There are only those whose deaths have arrived, and those whose time has not."

She looked at him steadily.

"Death isn’t concerned with whether someone was good or evil. Nor does it care how much we love them."

"You’re telling me not to interfere with the natural order of life and death."

Evenson understood immediately.

"I’m telling you not to become trapped by it."

The Ancient One didn’t deny his interpretation.

"Resurrection is an extraordinarily seductive idea. It is also one of the most effective traps demons possess."

For a moment, sadness flickered across her face.

She remembered her former disciple.

A brilliant student who had become obsessed with resurrecting his wife.

That obsession had been what led him into darkness.

"I understand what you’re saying."

Evenson scratched the back of his head.

"But I still have to finish this contract."

He gave her a reassuring smile.

"Don’t worry. The first lesson of becoming a successful Warlock is learning how to resist temptation."

Then his expression turned serious.

"And when I say my friend shouldn’t have died, I mean that literally."

"The soul was forcibly dragged into Hell by Mephisto."

He pointed toward the unconscious avatar.

"His body is still alive."

...

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