Chapter 139 to Chapter 149

…

Wanda's progress was so rapid that it surpassed both Leon's and the Ancient One's expectations. Later, while having tea together on the balcony of Kamar-Taj, the Ancient One sighed, "Her power is truly unimaginable. I believe she is destined to become a great being in the future."

Leon nodded. "I also hope she can maintain her purity. Otherwise, her power would be a tremendous threat to this world, this universe, and even the multiverse."

Leon reflected on this. In the original timeline, Wanda's descent into darkness had almost led to disaster across the multiverse. Perhaps, without his influence, it already would have. But things had changed; he, Wanda, Pietro, and others had built a close-knit family. Wanda, now grounded in strong will and supported by loved ones, was different.

This strong will is one of the benefits of dedicated cultivation. Unlike those who suddenly gain power—like Peter Parker, who struggled to balance newfound strength with an ordinary psyche—Wanda's abilities developed over time, with her mind and will strengthening alongside them. As her physical and magical abilities grew, her will was tempered like iron, a stark contrast to others who might spiral out of control.

Now, with chaos magic and the three-color domineering powers all deeply tied to her spirit, Wanda was unlikely to descend into darkness. Only a massive loss—such as losing Pietro, Natasha, and her entire family—could push her to that edge. If such a tragedy happened, she might say, "A world without you has no meaning." And then… restart the universe.

Though Leon felt a chill at the thought, he was determined not to let that future come to pass. He'd much rather stand beside Wanda and Natasha, forging a joyful future together.

With Wanda fully immersed in her studies, Leon decided it was time to head to Sky Blade.

Leon found himself back in a familiar, dazzling city, standing by the fountain in the central square. He sat on its edge, with Keisha beside him. She raised her hand gracefully, and several holographic projections appeared in front of them.

"Based on Sky Blade's scans and analysis of magic, we've outlined some preliminary insights," Keisha began, her voice cool and ethereal.

"Magic is also a form of energy, which we categorize into three types: individual energy, cosmic energy, and dimensional energy."

"Individual energy," she continued, "refers to the energy within humans and other intelligent species. This potential can be cultivated through meditation and study."

Leon glanced at the colorful energy data displayed before him, nodding as he took it in.

Keisha went on, "Cosmic energy is drawn from external sources within the current universe. For instance, according to the Sky Blade's scans of Earth's so-called 'Cosmic Cube,' it falls into this category."

"The third type, dimensional energy, is derived from dimensions outside the main universe in the multiverse. This is the energy source used by most sorcerer, though it typically comes at a significant cost."

Leon listened closely, absorbing the implications of each type of energy.

"The magic recorded in these books generally requires channeling one's personal energy to guide a greater cosmic energy into the body, enabling spellcasting for various purposes," Keira explained. "This method often involves specific gestures or rituals."

She paused, then continued, "We could actually replicate this process. By programming these guidance techniques, we could make spellcasting simpler, like a basic computing model."

Leon nodded. Essentially, it was an alternative form of system support. In angelic civilization, warriors rely on a linked support system to wield powers beyond their own capabilities. For example, angel warriors use a technique called the Heavenly Blade Judgment, which acts like a cosmic flare bombardment. Here, the angel becomes an anchor point, while the remote end, often a celestial-class battleship or Merlot Heaven itself, supplies the energy.

The same principle applies to sorcerers. To cast spells with power beyond their limits, they draw magic from the dimension of magic through spells. The difference is that in magic, there is a cost. While angels receive remote support without repayment, sorcerers who tap into powers like those of the Vishanti are bound by a price—repayment is required.

"After all, the Vishanti wouldn't be generous enough to let mortal sorcerers freely borrow their power," Leon remarked. "Borrowed power comes with a cost; it must be paid back, one way or another."

When sorcerers connect with the magical dimension, it essentially forms a loan contract. This magical contract operates like a program: when sorcerer die, the dimension reclaims their souls and the energy they've cultivated over time. Only someone as powerful as the Ancient One, who found an alternative power source that even the Vishanti wouldn't dare interfere with—essentially "free support"—can escape this binding agreement. Otherwise, most must repay their debt.

Leon's interest in this issue stemmed from Kamar-Taj and the sorcerers of the Sanctuary.

"Can this model be optimized?" he asked.

"What exactly do you want to achieve?" Keisha inquired.

Leon's eyes gleamed. "I want to change their energy source—from drawing on the magic dimension to linking with the Sky Blade system."

In other words, he wanted the sorcerers to switch allegiances.

"It's absolutely possible," Keisha replied, "but the spells would need optimization to reroute their power link to the Sky Blade system."

"And will Sky Blade energy be able to support the entire sorcerer group?"

Keisha confirmed, "Yes. I've already identified a star-level celestial body that can handle it. The energy requirements for the sorcerers are minimal, even less than what's needed for a few second-generation angels."

…

Keisha nodded affirmatively. But after speaking, she hesitated a little, adding, "But if it's the female sorcerer known as the Ancient One… she's out of range."

"No problem," came the reply.

With that question set aside, Keisha began discussing Sky Blade's recent search results for the Milky Way and surrounding galaxies. "During this period, we identified four developed civilizations near us, along with around 33,000 underdeveloped civilizations that have been detected."

She continued, "The most advanced civilizations in the galaxy are the Skrull Empire, the Kree Empire, the Shi'ar Empire, and the Nova Empire. Their technology surpasses Earth's by roughly 200 million years. They've reached the stage of an advanced civilization, making them capable of creating gods—a pseudo-god-level unit."

Weng!

As a sacred white light flashed in Keisha's eyes, an entire system display appeared before her, revealing a vast, dim cosmic vacuum. In the dark of space, a figure with golden flames surrounding her body was moving at high speed—a blonde woman in a red and blue combat uniform, topped with a retro brown leather jacket from the 1990s.

"Carol Danvers. Race: Human. Genetically enhanced," the display read. "Her body contains cosmic-level energy, akin to that of the Cosmic Cube, granting her pseudo-god-level combat power. Destination: Star 213."

Leon recognized her instantly. Isn't this incredible? he thought. This was the same superhero destined to one day take on the "purple menace," a 'hero' whose combat power was formidable. Leon knew she herself was a pseudo-god level warrior—comparable to a Sky-Father-level entity. When she unleashed her double-star form, she could even go toe-to-toe with beings of that level.

Her appearance was delicate, her beauty easily rivaling Wanda's. But where Wanda had a sweet allure, and Natasha an enchanting charm, Carol's beauty was more rugged, heroic—she looked every inch a warrior.

"What a perfect candidate," Leon murmured in admiration as he watched Carol's powerful figure moving through space. It was unfortunate, though, that this woman, with her heart for the people, had been journeying across the galaxy for years, protecting others.

Keisha stood silently, saying nothing, but she couldn't help feeling that Captain Leon was becoming more and more like an Earth capitalist that he claims to not like.

After stealing an admiring glance at Captain Marvel's graceful figure, Leon turned to Keisha. "Continue exploring, and keep a close watch on the developed empires."

"Yes, Captain," Keisha replied.

Kamar-Taj.

A dark-skinned man in a sorcerer's robe was hurrying down the corridor when he encountered Wong, who wore a sour expression. He quickly stepped forward to greet him.

"Master Wong!"

"Master Mordo."

After exchanging the traditional sorcerer's greeting, Mordo looked at Wong's distracted expression and asked curiously, "Wong, is something troubling you?"

Wong hesitated, then sighed. "It's nothing… I just encountered a sorcerer with remarkable talent, and it left me feeling a bit off balance."

Mordo, knowing Wong's calm and honest nature, was taken aback. "A sorcerer with exceptional talent?"

Wong, who was typically one of the stronger sorcerers—trusted by the Sorcerer Supreme herself to guard the library—wasn't one to feel competitive. Mordo knew him to be honest, diligent, and genuinely happy for others' success. But this time, it seemed a sorcerer's talent had managed to shake even Wong's usually steady disposition.

While Mordo's curiosity was piqued, he quickly reminded himself of his mission. Suppressing his interest, he exchanged a few final words with Wong before hurrying off to the temple to find the Sorcerer Supreme, the Ancient One.

Wong, meanwhile, remained in a daze, clearly still unsettled by the encounter.

Mordo entered the main hall and found the Ancient One absorbed in a book. She leaned against the wooden window, with sunlight gently illuminating her and the pages, creating an atmosphere of natural harmony.

However, after two months apart, Mordo sensed an inexplicable dissonance within this seemingly serene scene—like a drop of ink on pure white paper.

Frowning, he put his doubts aside for the moment, approaching her respectfully. "Sorcerer Supreme."

"Master Mordo," she greeted him with a gentle nod, setting down her book. "Good afternoon. You seem to have made progress on your mission."

As always, Mordo's tone was reverent. "Yes, Sorcerer Supreme. I tracked the Dark Sorcerer Order from Bangladesh to Brazil and discovered the corrupted Kaecilius's trail… but they managed to evade capture."

"But I found the summoning ritual altar and marks of dark power left behind in Brazil," Mordo reported.

"Is that so? It seems Kaecilius still refuses to let go," the Ancient One sighed.

Kaecilius had once been her disciple, one of the most talented sorcerers of his generation, even a potential candidate for the next Sorcerer Supreme. But he harbored a fatal flaw: obsession—specifically, the desire for eternal life.

Perhaps it was his tragic past that instilled in him an acute awareness of life's fragility from a young age. After the Ancient One brought him to Kamar-Taj, Kaecilius grew increasingly consumed by magic, hoping to use it to achieve immortality and unending power.

But, tragically, magic could not grant eternal life. Even the Ancient One, with her formidable soul, could only sustain her body for a mere two thousand years—and only by drawing a measure of energy from other dimensions to preserve her strength.

When Kaecilius learned this, he became utterly unhinged. He turned to Dormammu, the ruler of the Dark Dimension, and succumbed to his dark influence, becoming a slave to Dormammu and offering up his very soul.

After betraying Kamar-Taj, Kaecilius used his former influence to sway many other sorcerers into following Dormammu, forming the Dark Order. Together, they sought to destroy the three Sanctums on Earth, intending to break the protective seals and summon Dormammu himself, allowing him to consume the universe and plunge it into eternal darkness.

The Ancient One could only sigh at her lost disciple's choices, though she felt no fear. She knew all too well that, despite Kaecilius's devotion to his dark master, his fate was sealed—death was his inevitable destination.

…

"The power of darkness is growing day by day, and many among us have fallen, unable to resist its temptation," Master Mordo said, worry etched on his face.

As someone who holds the ideals of absolute justice, Mordo is devoted to the light, intolerant of any form of darkness. He reveres those who have protected the world and fought against evil for over two thousand years, most of all the Sorcerer Supreme, the Ancient One. To him, she is a beacon of hope and a source of faith. He dreams of one day fighting against evil as she does. But the rising strength of dark forces deeply unsettles him.

The Ancient One, however, remained calm, her voice carrying a comforting power that seemed to soothe Mordo's troubled heart. "We cannot ensure that everyone's heart will be filled with light, Master Mordo. Darkness encroaches upon the light, and light drives away the darkness. They oppose one another, yet they are also inherently intertwined."

She paused thoughtfully. "So it is with human nature. What we can do is destroy the darkness where it emerges."

Ancient One's words resonated with Mordo as he took them to heart, and his anxious thoughts slowly subsided.

But then, remembering Wong's words, Mordo asked with curiosity, "Sorcerer Supreme, I heard from Master Wong that a very talented young mage recently arrived at Kamar-Taj?"

"Yes," Ancient One replied, pausing before adding softly, "She is indeed exceptional—very special. One day, she will become the next Sorcerer Supreme."

Her confidence took Mordo by surprise. Though he was not a jealous person and trusted the Ancient One's wisdom, he couldn't help feeling some lingering doubts. In his mind, the role of Sorcerer Supreme was nearly unattainable—even for himself. To him, the Ancient One was simply unmatched.

"Is there anything I can do to help her?" Mordo asked after a moment of hesitation.

The Ancient One seemed to recall something and said, "Perhaps you could assist her in mastering the fundamental principles of magic. Her progress has been remarkably swift, yet there is still much she has yet to understand."

"Sorcerer Supreme," Mordo began, pausing as if unsure. He meant to ask why not teach her yourself?

The Ancient One noticed Mordo's thoughts and gently shook her head. "Dark forces are stirring, and I must be prepared to face them at any moment." The unspoken implication was clear: Dormammu needs to be kept in check, and I must be ready for battle at any time. I simply don't have the time.

"Yes, Sorcerer Supreme," Mordo replied, nodding. With that, he turned to find the young mage who the Ancient One had personally recognized as the future Sorcerer Supreme.

As he opened a portal to the Mirror Dimension and stepped through, he immediately froze in astonishment.

What he saw was unbelievable.

The entire Mirror Dimension was undergoing a monumental transformation. Kamar-Taj's once-classical, spacious buildings were twisting and shifting, as though reshaped by a vast and mysterious power. At times, structures morphed into a massive wooden dragon; at other times, they rearranged themselves into the form of a Rubik's Cube. Even the mountains around him rumbled and shifted, as if moved by invisible hands.

The ground quaked beneath him, forcing Mordo to conjure a floating platform to keep his balance. He looked up, wide-eyed, to see a young girl in a red sweatshirt hovering in the sky.

She appeared almost godlike, shaping the world around her according to her will—destroying and creating with ease. Within moments, she had transformed the entire Kamar-Taj mirror image into a dreamlike island, surrounded by sparkling blue water. The scene was breathtakingly beautiful, more picturesque than any real island he'd ever seen.

Mordo was speechless, his face a mask of disbelief. How can this be?

Mirror magic itself was an incredibly advanced and powerful art. The user of mirror magic could create a dimension isolated from reality—a world where they wielded full control. Mordo himself could distort structures, change landscapes, and even fold parts of the mirror world. But he could not conjure matter from nothing.

What he was witnessing now, however, defied his fundamental understanding of mirror magic. This young girl had directly reshaped mountains, created oceans, and turned a high-altitude mountainside into an entire island with a sea around it—all seemingly from thin air.

What was even more astonishing was the scale and energy required. Mirror magic, as he knew it, was extremely demanding in terms of magical energy, with clear limits on the size of the world one could create and control. For Mordo, creating and sustaining such an immense landscape was utterly impossible.

Yet here she was, effortlessly changing the nature of the mirror world itself. This display of power not only amazed him but shattered his perception of the limits of magic.

For instance, it was simply impossible for Mordo to create a mirror world on the scale of New York. The magic energy required was beyond what he could summon or sustain. He knew that each time he attempted to draw on such power, he risked criticism and consequences—and even then, he doubted he could handle such a vast energy surge.

Yet the mirror world he was now witnessing seemed endless. Was it a hundred kilometers wide? A thousand? Ten thousand? The sheer magnitude was staggering.

How is she able to draw on so much magical energy? And how can she handle such overwhelming power?

Mordo was stunned, feeling disoriented. At last, he understood why the usually level-headed Wong had looked so shaken and had sighed in defeat. Any sorcerer witnessing this display would likely react just as Wong had—if not worse.

Mordo had never seen anything like this. This level of talent was beyond anything he could have imagined, as if the very Vishanti had descended to personally tutor her.

While Mordo was grappling with the implications of what he was seeing, Wanda noticed him as she shaped her "world." There was no chaotic magic leaking from her form; the energy around her was tightly controlled, a proof of her mastery.

With a casual snap of her fingers, she caught sight of Mordo's awestruck expression and, with a flick of energy, moved him effortlessly to hover above the island she had created.

…

Seeing the girl up close, Mordo was surprised by her delicate, sweet appearance and young age, though he already knew she was quite young. What had just happened left him, a sorcerer ranked among Kamar-Taj's strongest, unable to resist being transported here so effortlessly.

"Wanda."

"Mordo."

They briefly introduced themselves. Wanda, clearly briefed by the Ancient One, already knew a mage would be coming to teach her.

Looking at the girl in front of him, Mordo couldn't help but ask, "What kind of magic did you just use?"

"Mirror magic."

Wanda's expression seemed to ask, You don't know this?

Mordo was taken aback and, with a helpless look, replied, "Perhaps your mirror magic is... different from ours."

Wanda raised an eyebrow, wondering who was supposed to be teaching whom. This black-clad mage didn't seem as sharp as she'd expected. But thinking of her own Chaos Magic, she considered that perhaps it was indeed different. She explained, "In the mirror world, I'm practically a god. Here, I can easily do whatever I want."

She tilted her head slightly to indicate the islands and sea she had created below.

Having lived with Leon for so long, Wanda had learned to hide her true powers. Only the Ancient One knew about her Chaos Magic, and she certainly wasn't going to tell Mordo. Besides Chaos Magic, she had another ability: the power to alter reality itself. She'd first unlocked this ability after awakening her Conqueror's Haki. Once, under Leon and Natasha's watchful eyes, she had even created a living creature—a ram. She'd also once considered erasing an entire ship, but when Natasha looked disappointed, she restored it again.

This power had limits and drained her energy significantly. However, in the mirror world, her abilities seemed to amplify infinitely. The combination of her magic and her reality-altering ability had created a scene that left Mordo stunned.

Of course, she had no intention of revealing all of this to him. Mordo had no idea of the full extent of her powers, and he could only chalk it up to sheer talent.

His usually calm face turned sour in shock. Despite years of meditation since childhood, which had made his character more resilient than most, Mordo felt a strain on his composure. Lesser mages might have fallen into despair or even stumbled into darkness under such circumstances.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to think positively. The Ancient One's decision was right, he thought. This young mage truly has the talent to become the next Sorcerer Supreme, to protect the world from evil. With this realization, the tension in Mordo's heart eased, and he found himself feeling almost optimistic.

Of course, Mordo didn't forget his responsibilities. "Master Wanda, your talent is second only to the Ancient One's, and your progress is astonishing. But I think you could benefit from guidance to solidify your understanding of magic."

His expression, tone, and gaze were sincere. Wanda, who possessed high-level Observation Haki and could sense emotions, felt his genuine intent and replied gratefully, "Thank you, Master Mordo. I truly need this."

"It's my honor," he replied.

Wanda's humility and sincerity endeared her even more to Mordo, reinforcing his faith in her future as Sorcerer Supreme. And so, on the beach of Wanda's island creation, Mordo began teaching her the fundamentals of magic.

Hours passed. What started as a satisfying session gradually transformed Mordo's amazement into shock, and finally, numbness. He didn't fully register how he left the mirror dimension and found himself back in Kamar-Taj's square, staring blankly.

"It's unbelievable… how, how does she learn so fast?" he murmured, still in disbelief. "This is impossible."

Indeed, within just two hours, Mordo had suffered another profound blow. His teaching was based on years of magical knowledge and understanding, yet Wanda absorbed it all effortlessly. Magic, like advanced mathematics, was complex, obscure, and required deep insight. A mage might memorize spells and concepts quickly, but to truly grasp the essence of magic—enough to create new spells—was something few could achieve.

In Kamar-Taj, even the oldest mages spent their lives pursuing greater understanding, often unable to master it all. But Wanda seemed like a living system, able to comprehend the essence of any knowledge fed to her and make connections instantly. In those two hours, she had absorbed Mordo's 20 years of magical understanding completely.

It was beyond belief, a revelation that shattered Mordo's previous understanding of magic.

For two hours, Mordo felt as if the world had lost its color, everything reduced to shades of black and white. He was both inspired and utterly defeated, feeling a mix of enlightenment and exhaustion. With his mind overwhelmed, he could only return to his quarters to process it all in silence.

Wanda, meanwhile, was unaware that she had inadvertently shaken the confidence of a senior mage. She was simply delighted by her growth, feeling stronger with each passing day. Magical knowledge was like a vast ocean, and as she swam through it, she could see her progress in leaps and bounds.

In high spirits, Wanda returned to the real world and headed back to the manor. There, she found Leon busy with something, while her cheerful warrior spirit chirped energetically.

Leon, unfazed by the lively chirping around him, set down the replica of a flaming sword he'd been tinkering with—a weapon inspired by the Sky Blade. Placing it aside on the table, he turned to Wanda, who greeted him with a sweet smile. He reached out and gently ruffled her hair, and she closed her eyes, savoring the warmth of his touch.

…

In truth, Wanda's remarkable progress was more or less what Leon had anticipated. As the universe's originator of Chaos Magic, she could learn white magic as easily as a Ph.D. statistician might grasp elementary school material—just a quick explanation, and she understood it instantly.

In the realm of magic, Wanda was like a fish in water, her strength growing exponentially. At this rate, the Ancient One might need to consider early retirement.

As for Leon, without the near-limitless support of Sky Blade, if he ever found himself pulled into Wanda's mirror dimension, he'd likely be helpless. Magic, especially Wanda's, was so idealistic that her ability to magnify and reshape reality within the mirror world could wipe out anything with a single thought. Even Leon would have no control there. Wanda, in her fully mature stage, could theoretically reboot the universe—or even the multiverse—with a thought. She'd be powerful enough to defeat Thanos wielding the Infinity Gauntlet, unless he possessed the Heart of the Universe… but that's another story.

At this point, Wanda was hurtling toward full maturity, and soon, she might be the most powerful member of their family. Leon felt immense satisfaction in watching her growth, experiencing the sense of achievement that came with it. He wasn't the least bit jealous; in fact, he wished she'd reach her full potential sooner.

The manor was quiet that day, with everyone off at school, training, or occupied with duties at the Sky Base. Taking advantage of this rare solitude, Wanda suggested taking Leon for a stroll in New York. Of course, she would never admit it was a date.

Before leaving, Wanda noticed a peculiar dark red sword on the table. The sword radiated a strange but potent energy, sparking her curiosity. She picked it up and was surprised by its weight. Given that her single-arm strength could handle up to three or four hundred tons, feeling any heft at all meant this sword weighed at least ten to twenty tons, a testament to the density of its material.

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Seeing the curiosity in Wanda's eyes, Leon took the sword, running a finger along its uneven surface. He said softly, "This sword is quite powerful. Its destructive force could easily level a city."

In fact, Leon's description of the flaming sword didn't cover its full complexity. The sword is designed to resonate with solar energy, generating immense physical power and radiation effects. Because of the unique properties of its materials, it's often crafted in the form of a sword, but it actually contains a sophisticated computing core—a true stellar weapon. Sky Blade sourced rare materials from across the universe and spent ages perfecting this cutting-edge weapon. With it, one could command Sky Blade's systems more effectively.

However, the sword's hardness isn't exceptional. Anyone or any god with sufficient strength could break it with bare hands, so it functions more as a remote control and transmitter, much like a mage's wand.

"Wow, our family really knows how to set a high standard," Wanda commented with a matter-of-fact nod, clearly impressed.

Leon grinned, placing a hand on her shoulder and steering her out of the manor. As they walked, the flaming sword vanished from his hand with a subtle spatial ripple, unnoticed by Wanda.

The sudden closeness made Wanda blush; her innocent reaction was endearing.

Instead of a flashy sports car, the two hopped on a motorcycle and rode through the streets of New York. The city was bustling during the day, and there was plenty to explore.

Wanda, besides enjoying shopping for stylish clothes, had a soft spot for good food. Thanks to her unique physiology, she didn't worry about weight gain and could eat without restraint. While Western food lacked the variety of Eastern cuisine, New York was full of diverse culinary options if one was patient enough to search—or willing to splurge and had a big enough appetite.

Dressed in classic red and blue T-shirts, with sunglasses resting on their foreheads, they strolled down the hot summer streets, each holding an ice cream cone. But after the first bite, their expressions changed instantly.

Wanda's face twisted in horror, her disbelief clear as she examined the "new chocolate ice cream" in her hand. "Ugh, this tastes like week-old cheese from a leftover burger!"

"Yeah, exactly," Leon grimaced, agreeing. "This thing tastes like packaged garbage."

Both disgusted, they tossed their cones into a nearby trash can. Leon was baffled that anyone would buy such a thing and made a mental note of the shop's name. He figured that if any of the kids at home got on his nerves, he'd have them try this "ice cream" as payback.

As they continued down the street, they noticed an unusual number of people gathered around, all moving in the same direction. Curious, they decided to follow and see what the commotion was about.

The scene quickly caught Wanda's attention. "Where's everyone going?" she asked.

"There's probably some event happening in the square up ahead," Leon guessed.

Just then, loud, wild laughter filled the air. Both Leon and Wanda turned to see a figure in dark green armor, wearing a menacing helmet shaped like a demon's face. The figure was riding a jet-powered glider, soaring high above, speeding off into the distance.

Nearby, people looked up, pointing and talking excitedly. Most assumed it was part of the day's activities or some kind of surprise stunt.

Wanda glanced at Leon. "That guy…"

"Yeah, I think it's exactly what you think it is," Leon replied, nodding. He had recognized the figure immediately and could sense an aura of strength beyond the ordinary, confirmed by his heightened perception. This wasn't a planned event—it was something far more dangerous.

…

"It looks like there will be a lot of fun here today," Leon murmured, sensing—or perhaps even "seeing"—what was about to happen next.

He and Wanda exchanged a look. In that instant, they were perfectly in sync. Without hesitation, they dove into the festivities.

The grand square was alive with people celebrating, balloons filling the sky, and a massive one floating above the fountain. However, the lively scene was soon shattered by explosions, accompanied by panicked screams as the crowd began to scatter.

Above them, a man clad in dark green armor and a sinister helmet laughed maniacally, gliding on a spray-painted board. Immersed in his twisted enjoyment, he watched the terrified masses below with grim satisfaction—but it wasn't enough. He wanted even more chaos and destruction. Reaching behind him, he pulled out several green pumpkin bombs, targeting the fleeing crowd below.

The commotion sent the wealthy dignitaries and high-profile guests on a nearby platform into a frenzy.

"Fuck! I just bought this outfit!" one idiot cried.

"Run! Get away from that lunatic!" another shouted.

Just then, a red and blue figure swung in from the distance, propelled by thin strands of spider silk. Spider-Man soared through the air, extended both hands, and fired his webs, precisely latching onto the falling bombs. With a powerful yank, he redirected them away, causing the madman's eyes to narrow under his helmet.

The glider rider twisted to shield himself, positioning his board to absorb the blast. The pumpkin bombs exploded mid-air with a tremendous boom. Although the force sent him tumbling, the sturdy metal shell and balance of his glider helped him regain control, steadying himself once more.

The blast intensified the chaos, yet some in the crowd erupted into cheers, looking up at the figure perched on a high balloon.

"Look! It's Spider-Man! Spider-Man!"

"Spider-Man, you're the best! Take down that ugly maniac!"

Spider-Man's timely arrival and his quick action to save everyone immediately boosted the crowd's morale.

Among the fleeing people, Leon and Wanda leaned against a building wall, observing the scene with reserved intensity. Admiring Spider-Man's performance, Wanda commented, "Great coordination and reflexes."

"Only in times of crisis do people truly reveal their innermost feelings," Leon replied, casting a glance at the frightened crowd nearby. Some were even muttering complaints, frustrated that Spider-Man hadn't arrived sooner. Leon shook his head slightly.

"We've all seen the darkness in human nature; it's nothing new," he added.

Unfazed, Wanda looked up at the man in the sky, spreading terror. "Who is that guy? New York's first super-terrorist?"

Meanwhile, in the SHIELD Triskelion Building's Monitoring Center, Nick Fury watched the live feed on the large screen. He observed Spider-Man standing on a balloon in Grand Plaza, staring down at the man in dark green armor who was wreaking havoc below. Fury frowned.

"Who is that guy?" he muttered aloud.

"Uh, sir, we checked the database—no record of him," an agent replied from his computer. "Looks like he's a new player."

Fury leaned down, his face level with the agent's, giving him a sidelong look that made the man sweat nervously.

"So, should we send an agent to drive down thirty-three streets, walk up to him, and ask, 'Who are you?'"

"Sorry, sir. I'll mobilize more surveillance to track his whereabouts immediately."

"Thank you so much." Fury straightened and pressed a finger to his earpiece. "Hill."

"Director," came Maria Hill's voice on the other end.

"I hate this guy—he's like a stage clown, making a mess of everything. Where's Tony Stark?"

"Sir, he's currently at Stark Expo preparing for his big presentation. It'll take him some time to return to his lab and suit up."

"Wonderful," Fury said sarcastically. "Looks like we'll have to use our secret weapon. Get Barton and our 'Bloody Mary' lady on this."

"Sir, she's currently in the Typhoid personality."

"I don't care what personality she's in. I need her to get that green clown out of the sky—right now."

"Barton and Typhoid are on the Quinjet, heading to the scene. Estimated arrival in three minutes."

"Good."

Fury replied curtly, his one eye fixed on the screen, watching Spider-Man square off against the green-armored menace. Above Grand Plaza, wild laughter echoed from the villain's devilish helmet.

"Well, well, well, look who it is! Isn't this our friendly neighborhood Spider-Man? This is going to be fun!" the villain sneered.

"Who are you? Why are you destroying this place?" Peter Parker, standing atop the balloon, demanded. He glanced from the madman hovering above to the horrific scene below—the bomb-shattered corpses on the high platform, his friends Harry and Mary clinging to each other in terror, their faces pale.

The rage in Peter's heart swelled.

"Who am I?" The villain cackled. "I am the Green Goblin, and I am fear itself."

Consumed by madness, the Green Goblin reveled in his identity, declaring to Spider-Man and the world that he was the very embodiment of terror.

Spider-Man took a deep breath. After just a brief exchange, he realized that reasoning with this "Green Goblin" was pointless. He'd have to subdue him. The square below was packed with people, and even if they tried to escape, it would take time. Besides, Harry and other high-ranking guests on the platform were trapped—the bombs had blocked the stairway, making escape impossible. If they fell from such a height, they'd surely die.

"Alright, Green Goblin," Spider-Man replied, his voice steady, "your armor's a bit… abstract. I'll be your opponent."

The Green Goblin burst into maniacal laughter. "You? Hahaha!" he scoffed, his tone laced with madness.

…

"Spider-Boy, what do you think you're doing? Fighting criminals? Do you really believe you're everyone's so-called 'good neighbor'?"

The Green Goblin gestured toward the people below. "Look at them! You think I'm crazy? No, no—they are. Your so-called crime-fighting won't make them love you. To them, you're nothing but a novelty—a spider clown."

"Even if you stop me, they'll still blame you for the damage I caused. Sure, people in the city might be grateful to you for a while. They might enjoy having heroes around, but what they truly love is seeing those heroes beaten down, again and again. No matter what you do for them, in the end, they'll resent you. Why bother?"

The Green Goblin's voice was filled with madness, yet his words struck at truths that Spider-Man already understood all too well.

Spider-Man genuinely wanted to help fight crime, but he was painfully aware of human nature's dual sides—its ugliness and brilliance. For every person who liked him, there would be another who despised him, even among those he had saved. Some who lost loved ones blamed him for not arriving sooner, or resented the collateral damage from his fights.

In his efforts to save lives and stop robberies, sometimes more harm was caused. Some even saw him as a delusional man in a costume, getting involved where he wasn't wanted.

Leon, watching from below, observed the core of the issue. "His power isn't enough for him to control the situation completely—he's only able to do so much."

Is Spider-Man strong? Absolutely—strong enough to hold his own against the Hulk. But his restraint and sense of responsibility kept him from fully unleashing his power. If he did, he could be as fearsome as the green monster himself. Yet Spider-Man's personality limited him. He was too kind to release his full strength, and this kindness made him reluctant to use his abilities to their full extent.

This restraint was one of the greatest weaknesses for a hero with such power. Spider-Man, still young, hadn't had the time to refine his control, so he rushed into battles, often unprepared for more formidable foes. Against everyday criminals, he managed well, but when faced with unexpected threats, he struggled to contain the damage.

This wasn't just Spider-Man's dilemma—it was a challenge shared by many so-called superheroes.

Wanda nodded thoughtfully, watching Spider-Man standing on the balloon with a mix of admiration and curiosity.

Faced with the Green Goblin's harsh words, Peter Parker fell silent for a moment. Memories of Uncle Ben and his final words came to mind. With resolve, he looked up and said, "No matter how many people hate me or think I'm a clown, I'll still try to help them."

"There has to be someone to stop evil from happening. Since I have that ability, I'll keep walking this path," Peter's determined voice echoed across the area. From a broken balcony in the distance, both Harry and Mary Jane looked on, puzzled.

But the Green Goblin was unfazed by Spider-Man's conviction, feeling only a twisted satisfaction. With a mocking tone, he sneered, "Stupid bug, then hold on to that belief and die with them."

He stepped down on his glider's pedal, and the barrels at the front fired a barrage of bullets at Spider-Man. Reacting quickly, Peter flipped backward just as the bullets pierced the balloon he'd been standing on, emitting a hissing sound as it deflated.

Swinging into action, Peter used his webbing to latch onto a nearby balloon and maneuvered through the air, using the other balloons above him as cover to get behind the Green Goblin. With a precise aim, he shot a line of webbing directly at his opponent.

Caught off guard, the Green Goblin felt the webbing stick to his back. As he turned, Spider-Man yanked hard, pulling both the Green Goblin and his glider, sending them crashing through balloons and down to an empty spot on the ground.

The Green Goblin stumbled to his feet, pushing off his glider, only to see Spider-Man landing right in front of him.

From a nearby vantage point, Leon and Wanda watched the battle unfold. To them, it looked almost like a sparring match between children. They exchanged punches and kicks with intense force, creating loud whooshing sounds as they moved. To onlookers, it was thrilling—but Wanda couldn't help shaking her head, resisting the urge to shout, "Stop fighting! You won't kill each other at this rate."

Of course, this was all Leon's own humorous interpretation of the scene.

Watching for a while, Leon grew bored. Turning to Wanda, he asked, "How about we go shopping?"

"No, this is too much fun," she replied, clearly entertained. "This relationship drama between them—it's like watching a family soap opera for me!" Wanda's eyes sparkled with excitement, and Leon realized she'd likely used her psychic powers to peek into Peter Parker's and the Green Goblin's memories, uncovering their real identities.

Leon chuckled. Wanda, once sweet and innocent, had turned into a spectator eagerly soaking in the drama.

As the fight continued, Leon and Wanda critiqued each move.

"That kick was too soft. He should've put his whole strength into it," Leon muttered.

"This Green Goblin may be ruthless, but he's lacking in technique," Wanda added thoughtfully.

Then, as if recalling something, Wanda turned to Leon. "Don't these two enhanced types need a blood sample?"

"Let Sergei handle that. Our mission is to shop and have fun."

"Deal!"

Wanda nodded happily.

"Hm?"

After a while, Peter Parker, focused on defending the group of people on the rooftop from the Green Goblin, found himself at a disadvantage in the fight. Just then, two newcomers arrived, shifting the momentum of the battle.

Leon and Wanda looked up at the sky as a S.H.I.E.L.D. Quinjet approached. Instead of flying directly over the square, it hovered nearby, and as the hatch opened, a figure in a Kevlar combat uniform with a quiver on his back descended along a rope, landing on the top floor of a nearby building.

At the same time, a woman in a red T-shirt, with a red thread on her wrist, floated gracefully down to the center of the square.

…

Seeing the man and woman, Leon tilted his head thoughtfully. He recognized the man: Clint Barton, also known as Hawkeye, one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top agents. The woman was also familiar—Mary, who had once been an unstable associate of Kingpin. It surprised Leon to see her involved with S.H.I.E.L.D.

He didn't know the full story behind her presence, as the Sky Blade's monitoring of Earth typically focused on more significant events or key individuals. Usually, only the Space Gem held by S.H.I.E.L.D. could grab his attention, not to mention that the Darkhold wasn't in their possession yet.

When Leon activated his Insight ability, a flood of information poured into his mind, and his expression shifted. He observed this energetic woman closely, sensing something indescribably strange. He hadn't expected her to develop feelings for him from just a single encounter—his kick and confident demeanor had apparently captivated her to the point of betraying Kingpin.

Ironically, Leon recalled that in another timeline, Mary and Kingpin had ended up married. Yet here, her darker, violent personality—Typhoid—seemed to have been drawn to him, leaving him further intrigued. And to his surprise, it appeared that Nick Fury had managed to recruit her to S.H.I.E.L.D. despite her notorious reputation.

"I think I've heard of her before. Sister Natasha mentioned her once... Mary, right?" Wanda remarked, noticing Mary and raising her slender eyebrows. Mary exuded a powerful aura, one that spoke of a dominating, dark energy. Wanda could sense it clearly—this woman was formidable but did not appear, by any means, stable.

"This is likely her alternate personality, Typhoid," Leon explained, giving Wanda a brief overview of Mary's abilities and fractured psyche. Wanda nodded in understanding.

"Then Green Goblin is in for trouble," Wanda observed, noticing the murderous glint in Mary's eyes. Typhoid Mary's violent nature and turbulent personality had been further exacerbated by her frustration over an elusive target. Now, on her first mission for S.H.I.E.L.D., she was dead-set on killing her target, with no intent of capturing him alive.

Typhoid Mary's presence quickly caught the attention of both the Green Goblin and Spider-Man, Peter Parker, during their fight. Distracted by Mary's sudden appearance, Peter left an opening—one the Green Goblin seized, landing a powerful kick to Peter's chest.

Bang!

Fortunately, Peter sensed the force of the Green Goblin's powerful kick through his spider sense and crossed his arms in front of him to block it, though he was still pushed back several steps.

The Green Goblin glanced over at Typhoid Mary, who was floating in the air, his eyes glinting with interest. With a subtle motion of his finger, he summoned his glider to float toward him. "Well, well, another chick," he sneered, but before he could finish, his expression changed abruptly. Boom!

Typhoid Mary looked down at the Green Goblin and Spider-Man, extending her right hand. Suddenly, the space around the Green Goblin seemed to warp. A powerful gravitational force, as heavy as a mountain, crushed down on him, forcing him to his knee, creating deep pits in the ground beneath him. Even with his genetically enhanced body, the Green Goblin couldn't break free and was suppressed almost instantly.

Peter was both surprised and relieved. He was impressed that this red-haired woman had managed to restrain the Green Goblin, but his spider sense was still warning him of danger. This woman's power was clearly stronger than he'd anticipated, though he didn't sense any immediate hostility. So, he decided to speak up.

"Hey, thanks for the assist, ma'am," Peter said, attempting a friendly tone. "Your skills are impressive—and I love the hair, by the way!"

Typhoid Mary, however, looked slightly irritated. She spoke into her earpiece, ignoring Peter's attempt at friendliness: "Let's make a deal. If I kill this fool, I'll work for you one more day."

In her eyes, the guy in the costume below was barely worth her time. A steady voice replied in her earpiece, "No, Ms. Typhoid, the director specifically said Spider-Man isn't our target."

She rolled her eyes. "Can't help it if he's acting stupid. Just hope he knows when to keep his mouth shut."

Her glare was cold as she stared at Spider-Man. Although she was some distance away, Peter's enhanced senses picked up on her words. He quickly gestured as if zipping his mouth shut, signaling he would keep quiet.

Though Typhoid Mary was disappointed, hoping the "stupid bug" would give her an excuse to eliminate both of them, she composed herself. After all, she knew she needed S.H.I.E.L.D.'s support, and even her violent Typhoid personality could make a strategic decision when necessary.

Turning her attention back to the Green Goblin, she wrinkled her nose. "Ugly armor," she muttered in disgust. With a twist of her outstretched hand, she intensified the gravitational force.

Boom! The pressure around the Green Goblin increased, distorting and blurring the space around him. Unable to withstand the force, the Green Goblin dropped from one knee to both, clutching the ground and letting out a howl of pain.

But then the Green Goblin burst into crazed laughter.

"Hahaha! Isn't this thrilling, Spider-Man? Do you feel a spark of joy seeing a sinner meet his end right before your eyes?" He sneered. "Trust me, you'll get used to it."

That mocking, unhinged tone hit Peter, jolting him to react. He quickly looked up to the sky and shouted, "Hey, ma'am, if you keep this up, you'll kill him!"

Typhoid Mary acted as if she didn't hear him.

Peter, however, grew increasingly anxious. The Green Goblin might be a dangerous criminal, but he deserved a fair trial, not to be killed on the spot. Determined, Peter hurried to the side, grabbed a broken table nearby, lifted it with force, and hurled it straight at Typhoid Mary, who was still hovering above.

Bang!

The table shot through the air like a cannonball.

…

This sudden attack was something no one—not even someone as unhinged as Typhoid—could have anticipated. She quickly dodged to avoid the incoming table, but the interruption broke her concentration and disrupted her gravitational hold, a weakness in her ability.

Seizing the opportunity, the Green Goblin managed to enter a remote command, summoning his glider to his position. He jumped onto it and quickly sped away into the distance. His mission—to eliminate several key executives—was complete, and seeing the tide turn against him, the cunning Green Goblin knew better than to stay and fight.

The glider's speed and maneuverability allowed him to escape swiftly, putting considerable distance between himself, Spider-Man, and Typhoid.

"Aw, man!" Spider-Man muttered in frustration.

Just as he was about to give chase, he heard terrified screams from above—Mary Jane, Harry, and others were on a collapsing balcony. A recent explosion from the Green Goblin had weakened the structure, leaving only a small, unstable section holding them up. Mary Jane lost her grip and began to fall.

With Harry shouting in panic, Peter Parker instantly abandoned the pursuit. He fired a strand of webbing, swinging in a swift arc toward Mary Jane. As debris crumbled around him, he reached her just in time, catching her around the waist and guiding her gently to the ground with the help of his webs.

Mary Jane stared up at Spider-Man, wide-eyed and speechless. Her gaze made Peter's heart skip a beat; he felt himself melt under her look. But snapping out of it, he quickly remembered the Green Goblin. He released Mary Jane, glancing into the distance only to see that both the Green Goblin and Typhoid Mary had disappeared.

Peter's heart sank. He had let the Green Goblin escape—a dangerous madman who would likely return to cause more destruction. If he'd only stayed focused, he might have stopped him. Thinking of the potential future harm, Peter's mood grew somber, even as he held Mary Jane safe in his arms.

"Hey... Spider-Man!" Mary Jane's gentle voice reached Peter's ears, snapping him out of his thoughts. He glanced at her, then suppressed his emotions and focused. One by one, he used his webs to safely rescue Harry and the others who were still clinging to the damaged balcony. Just as he finished, he heard police sirens in the distance. Firing a web, he swung away, leaving Mary Jane, Harry, and the others with mixed feelings.

Meanwhile, Leon and Wanda, who had been watching the whole scene unfold, exchanged bewildered looks. Wanda, her expression unimpressed, asked, "What... was that?"

Leon sighed, almost feeling his heart skip a beat. "All I can say is, it's very... Spider-Man."

"This kind of thinking is infuriating," Wanda muttered, nearly exasperated. While she respected order and principles, Peter's actions struck her as naïve. "Spider-Man could have stopped Typhoid Mary without letting the Green Goblin escape. But because of this strict no-kill principle, he lets criminals slip away so the law can handle them."

She sighed, deciding her earlier curiosity about Peter was misplaced. "Forget it. There's no way to change that kind of thinking, and I don't have the energy to try."

"Let's go. No point letting this ruin my mood," she added, pulling Leon away. Thanks to her influence over the police officers nearby, none of them noticed the two as they left the area. Wanda didn't seem to notice—or perhaps pretended not to—that they were holding hands. Leon glanced at her with a small smile, noting her rosy cheeks and the smirk on her face. She just pretended not to notice.

"Ugh! I'm going to kill that idiot!" Typhoid Mary's frustrated voice echoed through the S.H.I.E.L.D. conference room as she slammed her fist on the table, leaving a dent. Agent Hill glanced at her and raised an eyebrow while Clint Barton winced, deciding not to comment.

Hill opened her mouth to suggest Typhoid would have to pay for the damage but then thought better of it. Seeing Typhoid's volatile state, she decided to let the director handle her. Hawkeye Clint Barton casually focused on his fingernails, not eager to provoke Mary. He'd seen her earlier, furious, crush a car with ease after the Green Goblin's glider slipped away. He wasn't keen to test his durability against that level of strength.

Just then, the conference room doors opened, and Nick Fury walked in. Ignoring Typhoid Mary's glare, he stood in front of the table and stated, "It's a pity the capture mission failed. Ms. Mary, do you have any thoughts?"

Typhoid Mary scowled, her eyes flashing. "Just one—I was ready to kill that bug."

The failed mission left Typhoid Mary furious. Wasn't it a direct question of her competence? She didn't care about S.H.I.E.L.D.'s opinion of her, but she needed their help to find the one she couldn't stop thinking about. Now, she wanted nothing more than to crush the person who caused her failure with her own hands.

"Nice sentiment, Ms. Typhoid, but unfortunately, we don't get to kill people at will," Fury said calmly. Noting her frustration, he handed her a file. "However, on this mission, there's no restriction on life or death."

Suppressing her anger, Mary took the document and flipped through it, a bloodthirsty smile spreading across her face. Without a word, she turned and walked out.

"She's a highly unstable factor," Hill muttered once Mary had left. What Hill disliked most was her unpredictability—especially in someone with unique abilities and multiple personalities like Typhoid Mary.

"Her skills are impressive," Clint agreed, "but her instability could easily cause problems on a mission."

"For now, we need her," Fury replied simply. "We've identified the Green Goblin's true identity, and now we need to understand what could drive a billionaire to become such a monster."

…

At night, Peter tiredly crawled along the wall, opened the window, and slipped back into his room. He pulled off his Spider-Man suit and removed his mask with one hand. Standing in the dimly lit room, he didn't turn on the lights, letting the faint glow of the distant city shine through the window. Under the moonlight, he stared blankly at the mask in his hand.

The black lenses of his mask reflected his exhausted face.

During the day, he'd let the Green Goblin escape because of his own compassion—saving Mary Jane and others instead. Afterward, he'd chased down the Goblin to capture him, but the damage had already been done. He saw the trail of chaos left behind: streets littered with debris, cars wrecked, and destruction spread across the block.

The Green Goblin had unleashed havoc, dropping bombs to evade pursuit. Innocent people had been caught in the carnage, lives shattered by the ruthless assault. Now, Peter could almost hear the frightened screams echoing in his ears, the cries of people who had lost their loved ones.

This devastation had happened because he'd hesitated—because he hadn't allowed that woman to end the Green Goblin. By sparing the madman, he'd unwittingly allowed more innocent people to suffer. Broken families, lives lost… all because of his own choices.

Peter's heart ached with regret and guilt. Why did he let the Goblin go? Why had he stopped her? He'd known the Goblin was a madman. His legs buckled, and he sank to his knees, tears streaming from his weary eyes. The harsh reality of the devastation clashed with his own moral code, leaving him torn. He believed in capturing criminals and letting the law bring justice—but this time, that choice had led to even greater loss.

Clutching his chest, he felt as if his heart might burst. His vision blurred, and in his mind, he saw the faces of the innocent, bloodied and broken, reaching out, silently accusing him.

Unable to face these haunting visions, Peter curled up on the floor, his shoulders shaking as he whispered, "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

The moonlight cast his shadow across the floor, and slowly, the darkness seemed to swallow him whole. For the first time, Peter began to doubt himself.

On the top floor of a building a few streets away, a figure watched silently.

"That child…" he murmured.

Beside him, a middle-aged man also observed the scene, his expression unreadable. He opened his mouth to say something but was silenced by a gesture. "What do you think we should do about him?"

"I sympathize with the kid, and I understand his pain," the figure replied, "but he made a grave mistake."

Coulson was taken aback for a moment, then shook his head. He had overseen S.H.I.E.L.D.'s investigation into Spider-Man's identity and knew about the boy's tragic past. He admired him greatly, but there was no denying the truth—both from a legal and a moral standpoint, mistakes had been made on both sides. This time, the cost had been high.

More than 20 lives had been lost, over 40 people were severely injured and still fighting for their lives in the ICU, and countless others had been wounded. Even if S.H.I.E.L.D. considered recruiting Spider-Man, these casualties could not be ignored—or forgiven.

Because of this, they had brought an elite combat team, prepared to apprehend Spider-Man.

Coulson's words made Nick Fury nod, his single eye glinting with an unreadable expression. After a moment of silence, Fury spoke.

"Begin the arrest."

With that, he turned and walked away. Coulson picked up his communicator.

"Begin the arrest. The target is extremely dangerous. If there is any resistance, shoot immediately."

A calm voice responded on the other end.

Through his binoculars, Coulson watched a dozen armed vehicles pull up in front of the apartment, surrounding it completely. Heavily armed agents moved swiftly and silently, positioning themselves to block every possible escape route.

A frontline agent knocked on the apartment door.

An elderly woman in a plaid dress answered, her face blanching at the sight of the guns pointed at her.

"Who are you?" she stammered.

"Detain her," the lead agent ordered tersely. Without further explanation, he advanced into the house, leading his team up the stairs with their guns raised. Two agents restrained the old woman, covering her mouth to muffle any cries.

Bang!

Reaching the second floor, the agents kicked open a door and saw a motionless figure curled up on the floor.

Upon spotting the target, the lead captain signaled, and several agents advanced to surround him. At that moment, Peter, who had been lying on the ground, finally woke up. He quickly looked up, seeing figures with guns and masks standing over him.

He was startled—these people had broken into the house, and he hadn't even reacted? Why hadn't his spider-sense warned him?

Instinctively, he tried to stand up, but commands barked sharply in his ears.

"Don't move! Surrender immediately, or we'll open fire!"

"Stay down! Lie on the ground, now!"

"Get down, or we'll open fire!"

Seeing their defensive stances, Peter seemed to realize something. Closing his eyes, he complied, lying flat on the floor as instructed. Cautiously, several agents approached him. One of them pulled out a needle and injected it into Peter's neck. As the liquid entered his bloodstream, he grew drowsy and quickly lost consciousness.

The agents swiftly carried Peter and the elderly woman out of the apartment. The entire operation was quick and forceful, completed in under three minutes.

Time continued its steady march forward, like a wheel rolling on.

The world was relatively calm this year. The Stark Expo had captivated audiences, and Iron Man—Tony Stark's name—echoed worldwide, drawing countless cheers and admiration. Yet, as his fame grew, so did the looming crises that shadowed him.

Meanwhile, in Kamar-Taj…

In this peaceful, hidden sanctuary, warm sunlight filtered through nearby branches, casting dappled shadows across a wide courtyard. There, a group of young sorcerers gazed in awe and admiration at the graceful sorceress before them—a striking woman in a casual T-shirt. Her presence commanded both respect and fascination.

…

The young sorceress standing before me, though not much older than the apprentices, had managed to impress every sorcerer in Kamar-Taj in just a few short months. It wasn't just because the current Sorcerer Supreme, the Ancient One herself, had named this girl as her successor—it was also because her magical talent was undeniable.

Just how talented was she?

In the few months since she'd begun studying magic, she had already surpassed everyone else in both her knowledge and her intuitive understanding of the mystical arts. Even seasoned masters like Mordo and the elder sorcerers had openly acknowledged her exceptional skill. A month ago, when other-dimensional creatures attempted to invade Earth, she personally stepped forward and vanquished a terrifying entity on her own.

Despite her gentle manner, there was a regal strength about her. She exuded a warm presence that made people feel at ease, yet she approached everything with a quiet courage and determination.

Because of this, the sorcerers of Kamar-Taj unanimously saw her as the rightful successor to the Ancient One, someone who would one day lead them in the battle against the darkness and protect Earth.

Today, the girl was officially taking over Mordo's duties, teaching the young apprentices. Her mastery of magic was second only to the Ancient One, and her teaching methods were uniquely captivating.

With a snap of her fingers—Bang!—the entire world seemed to shatter around them. Instantly, everyone was transported into the Mirror Dimension, a feat that left the young sorcerers in awe.

Then, she stretched out her hand and pressed it toward the ground. Boom! The mirror world flipped upside down. The ground quaked, mountains crumbled, and buildings fractured, sending rocks and wooden planks flying through the air. The earth beneath their feet surged as if pressing down, while a powerful wind whipped through, blowing her hair in every direction.

In the stunned eyes of her young students, the landscape of the Mirror Dimension transformed entirely. Suddenly, they found themselves standing on the shore of a vast, endless ocean. Waves lapped gently at the sand beneath their feet, while behind her rose the mountains of a secluded island, and above, seabirds wheeled in the sky.

With bright, starry eyes, she stood at the center of this world, like a goddess in command of the elements, radiating a presence that captivated everyone around her.

The dozens of young sorcerers present were visibly thrilled. Wanda glanced at them and nodded to herself—they were her future team, her support. How much free time she'd have in the future depended on how well she trained them now.

Determined to set a solid foundation, Wanda invested heavily in their early training, hoping that, in the long run, her presence at Kamar-Taj would be a rare sight. After all, she was all too familiar with Leon's method of working just enough to get by.

"You all have a solid foundation in magic, with unique perspectives and combat styles," Wanda said. "After all, human energy is limited."

She allowed herself a slight smirk. Human energy was limited, yes, but some were exceptions to that rule. In two or three months, she had already read the entire Kamar-Taj library and mastered its spells. Who else could do that? But the young sorcerers didn't notice the hint of pride in her tone; her words seemed practical enough to them.

Wanda's message resonated. Every sorcerer has their strengths and weaknesses, and while power levels vary, other factors—proficiency, the structure of one's combat system, and adaptability—are crucial to a sorcerer's effectiveness in battle. Sometimes, a sorcerer with less raw power but a refined style and strategic mind could even defeat a stronger opponent. Wanda understood this well.

Unless you had her level of talent or had reached the strength of the Sorcerer Supreme, you'd be affected by these factors. So rather than lecturing on magical theory, which Mordo could handle, Wanda focused on combat. To her, magical knowledge and battle readiness went hand in hand.

"From now on, you will fight," she announced, her voice turning from gentle to icy as a winter storm. "And I don't mean ordinary training exercises—I mean real, life-and-death battles."

Her words stunned the young sorcerers, who exchanged uneasy glances. Sensing their apprehension, she gave a soft smile, but her eyes held a dangerous gleam.

Boom, boom!

A powerful, domineering force erupted from her, sweeping outward like a tidal wave. The intense energy brought a suffocating pressure, leaving the young sorcerers wide-eyed with shock.

The impact was like a force pressing on the very spirits of the young sorcerers, causing them all to stagger under its weight. They looked at Wanda in astonishment, eyes wide with disbelief.

"But before we go any further," she said, "your first step is to strengthen your mental resilience. Let's see how long you can withstand this."

If Wanda had seemed like a sweet sorceress before, now, with her strong and commanding voice and the immense pressure of her spirit, she resembled a powerful queen from ancient times, wielding absolute authority.

Rumble! Her intense, domineering aura crashed down on the sorcerers' minds, wave after wave, like a small boat struggling in a violent storm. At any moment, it felt as if they might be overwhelmed.

Outside the Mirror Dimension, the Ancient One and Leon observed this scene. The Ancient One's expression held a hint of intrigue.

"She's… far more formidable, even domineering, compared to the Wandas I've encountered in other universes," she remarked with a smile.

"The environment she grew up in shaped her," Leon replied calmly, watching Wanda with a gentle gaze. "She's strong, and I've only given her the confidence to unleash that strength."

Wanda was at her most captivating in this moment, and Leon felt certain that this version of her would become more powerful than any other Scarlet Witch across the multiverse.

"Indeed," the Ancient One agreed. "I may have once approached things more gently, but I believe, as Sorcerer Supreme, she'll bring a new era to Kamar-Taj."

…

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