"What are you actually trying to do?" Johanna grabbed his shoulder, her armored palm clamping down as she forced him to look at her.
"Enough, Johanna. If you don't want to hear my plan, go rest. Your successor is about to emerge. Now, change your face. Go find him and give him some encouragement—just as your master did for you."
Bul-Kathos stared into her eyes and saw the spirit of his old comrade. Johanna's teacher had been named Johanna, as had the teacher before her. Soon, perhaps, Steve would take the name. In this world, there could only ever be one Crusader named Johanna at a time. A tedious, repeating history.
"Bul-Kathos, I won't watch you die in front of me," Johanna hissed. She turned and vanished into the snow, though she left the lingering lightning crackling on the ground.
Bul-Kathos let out a flicker of Fury, and a surge of snow buried the sparks.
"Woruusk, have a taste," Bul-Kathos muttered, pouring the dregs of the bitter wine onto the earth. Woruusk did not reply. Perhaps the wine was too bitter for even a ghost to swallow.
A short distance away, the Ancient One stood in the snow, flanked by Kaecilius—who had become a Barbarian in the purest sense. She watched Bul-Kathos silently, and only after he had departed did she speak.
"Kaecilius, how does it feel to be a warrior?" Her voice was airy, like a passing cloud.
"Not bad. At least my head isn't constantly spinning, wondering where to siphon my next bit of power from," Kaecilius replied casually, though with a hint of a lingering grudge.
"When you reached out to the Dark Dimension and saw that it was me... what were you thinking?"
"I thought you had been lying to me all along. That you were the master of the Dark Dimension. That you were Dormammu," Kaecilius admitted. The shock of that realization had been as painful as the time Kanuck knocked out all his teeth, forcing him to gum black bread just to survive.
"Shortly before you made contact, Bul-Kathos helped me deal with Dormammu permanently. Only then did I truly gain power and put down a fraction of my burden," she said softly. She pulled a simple milk candy from her pocket—the kind with a white rabbit on the wrapper. She turned and handed it to him.
Kaecilius had spent his entire childhood by her side, growing from a boy into a promising mage. He hesitated, then took the candy and carefully unwrapped it.
"Is this path... better for me than being a mage?" he asked, his eyes full of a strange hope as he savored the sweetness.
"Perhaps. In this world, a mage is never truly free. But a warrior is."
Great mages were bound by the Vishanti or influenced by nameless entities hiding in the shadows. Every spell left a mark on the soul. They were even forced to slaughter one another just because the Vishanti demanded a "Sorcerer Supreme." They were little more than puppets.
"What do mages have to face?" Kaecilius asked, his Fury flickering momentarily.
"Merlin, for instance?" The Ancient One smiled serenely.
Kaecilius rubbed his head, hiding his expression. "I understand. I will be the freest warrior. I will fight only for those I wish to protect."
"That is for the best. Now, go find your guide. Your prize awaits."
The Ancient One flickered out of existence, reappearing before the specter of Zoltun Kulle.
"Mage, I suspect you are one of the few truly intelligent people left in this world. Care to tell me if I'm right?" Kulle's raspy, mechanical voice grated on the ears.
"What are you plotting, Kulle? I doubt I have anything a mage of your caliber would need."
"Are you truly not that bright, or are you just playing the fool?" Kulle's eyes locked onto the Eye of Agamotto hanging around her neck. Specifically, the Time Stone.
A world doesn't just birth one set of gods. For every Light, there is a Shadow; for every Eternity, there must be a rule-based counterpart. The Infinity Stones were exactly that.
"Are you keeping this from Bul-Kathos?" she asked. Kulle could kill her in an instant, but Bul-Kathos would eventually find out. The Holy Mountain of Harrogath hid nothing from its King.
"Woruusk and I are keeping this from him together. Does that answer surprise you?" Kulle cackled. A stone flew up from the ground, passing harmlessly through his ghostly form. "Alright, a joke. Nothing more."
Kulle pulled a notebook from his pocket. "I want to make a trade. You have talent and, more importantly, a thirst for knowledge. I will show you a path unlike any other. In exchange... lend me the Time Stone."
Kulle had learned of the Stone's existence from Woruusk. He had ideas. Letting Bul-Kathos handle every enemy was efficient, but who could guarantee the King wouldn't fall to some grand conspiracy? Kulle wasn't the type to put all his eggs in one basket.
"No," she replied. She knew the Stone represented the very rules of this reality. If Time were lost, what would happen? Would people from every era collide in a single moment? Or would everything fade into nothingness? There were no Time Lords here to fix the ripples. She was too old to be reckless.
"Even if I told you what I intended to do with it?"
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