Date: Wednesday, July 28, 2010.

Location: 177A Bleecker St. Greenwich Village, Manhattan, New York

The tea room in the New York Sanctum was a cross between a Gothic cathedral and a cozy Victorian parlor. High-vaulted ceilings were supported by intricately carved wooden beams. Elaborate stained-glass windows refract the outside light, casting the room in a dance of muted blues, reds, and golds. In the center of the room stood a grand table, hewn from a single piece of dark mahogany. An intricate silver tea set, rested on ornate coasters, emitting delicate tendrils of steam. The air was filled with the comforting aromas of exotic blends; hints of jasmine, bergamot, and mint.

The Ancient One sat at the head of the table. Her ever-present air of wisdom seemed to add weight to the room. As she lowered her cup from her lips, she asked. "Then what happened?" Her voice was calm, but the curiosity in her eyes was undeniable.

"If Logan and Piotr hadn't been there to back me up, I'm not sure I could have contained him on my own." Illyana said, "Azazel presence in Tyson's mind was strong. Even with my Soulsword, it took all my concentration to keep him from teleporting away while Logan and Piotr restrained him." Illyana absently brushed a lock of golden hair behind her ear. She shook her head before continuing. "But finally, the red left Tyson's eyes. Azazel's appearance, mind, and powers faded away. That's when I knew we had him back."

Illyana glanced over at Tyson, offering a faint, relieved smile. Tyson's gaze momentarily dropped to the intricate patterns on the table in shame before meeting the Ancient One's eyes. "After the battle, we searched the ruins of the castle. With so much of it destroyed, the intact parts were easier to pinpoint and explore." He paused, taking a breath, "They didn't just build upwards. They carved deep into the ground of Limbo, creating a labyrinth below."

The Ancient One raised a questioning eyebrow, "And what of the bodies?" she inquired, her voice calm but carrying an underlying intensity.

Tyson shifted slightly, a sense of closure in his voice. "We didn't find Vilsteth; I assume it retreated. As for Omega Red," he paused a hint of disapproval crossing his face.

Illyana continued, "I had a chat with Omega Red. I released him through a portal to Russia."

Tyson interrupted noticeably unhappy, "With such a long-distance portal, he could be there now, or in the past, or future. Who knows." The Ancient One smiled knowingly. Tyson concluded, "We made a cairn over the remains of Azazel. But I kept his sword, it's just a normal, but well-crafted rapier as far as I can tell. "

Illyana chimed in, her voice tinged with frustration, "In one of the larger underground chambers, we found a portal. It pulsed with energy, and we could sense the demons, itching to pour out." She leaned back in her chair, fingers playing with the rim of her teacup. "I tried using my connection to Limbo to close it. But nothing happened. And without any knowledge of magic, we were stuck."

The Ancient One listened intently, her face impassive. After a moment, she nodded. "I'm not surprised you couldn't close it." She paused, considering. "A gateway should have been beyond even Azazel’s capabilities to create. Unless he had help and used a ritual."

Illyana's eyebrows knitted together, her blue eyes clouding with confusion. "Gateway?" she echoed, the term unfamiliar to her.

The Ancient One leaned back, her expression turning grave. "Yes, a portal that remains open indefinitely, unaffected by external factors. If Azazel did create such a portal, then there's nothing you can do. At least, not as you are."

"Could you close it?" Illyana asked, her voice laced with a mix of hope and desperation.

The Ancient One looked thoughtful for a moment before meeting Illyana's gaze. "Likely, yes. But entering Limbo poses a significant risk." She paused, her voice turning somber. "If I were to venture there, powerful entities would notice my absence. Earth would be left vulnerable to threats from beyond our dimension."

Illyana's face fell, her fingers tightening around her teacup. "So you can't help?"

The Ancient One continued, "I can traverse the mirror dimension, the astral plane, and a select few others without drawing attention. But Limbo... is not one of them."

Illyana sighed, her shoulders drooping in defeat. "So, what? I'm just stuck with this problem?"

The Ancient One smiled, a small, reassuring gesture. "Not quite. You faced Azazel and emerged victorious. That in itself is commendable. And while I may not be able to intervene directly, I can offer you another path." She paused, letting the weight of her next words settle. "We would be honored to welcome you as a student at Kamar Taj, Illyana Rasputin. In time, with both your connection to Limbo and knowledge of the magic, you might be able to close those portals yourself."

Illyana looked up, surprise evident in her eyes. The weight she'd been carrying seemed to lighten if only a little. "You'd train me?"

The Ancient One nodded. "Yes, Illyana. I believe you have the potential to master the mystic arts."

The room grew quieter, the only sound being the Ancient One’s faint sips as she awaited Illyana’s response. "What about Tyson? You were cryptic before, saying he couldn't pay his cost until I paid mine. What does that mean?"

The lines on the Ancient One’s face deepened as she chose her words carefully. "Tyson has great potential, but there are rules that even I cannot bend. We cannot train him, not yet."

Illyana's brow furrowed, confusion evident in her eyes. "Why not?"

The Ancient One sighed slightly. "He hasn't completed his formal education. As per the traditions of Kamar Taj, he must at least finish high school before he can be trained as a sorcerer."

Illyana's face hardened, determination shining through. "Then I'll wait for him."

The Ancient One's eyes softened with a hint of sadness. "I had truly hoped you'd join us. Your potential is vast, and it's a pity to see you pass up this chance."

Illyana shrugged, "It's just a year. I'll come back next year after he finishes school."

The Ancient One shook her head, her voice tinged with regret. "You misunderstand, Illyana. When you took on the challenge to face Azazel, I explicitly stated that after five weeks, the doors of the Sanctum would be closed to you. That condition still applies. If you don't decide to join Kamar Taj within that period, the opportunity to learn will be lost."

Illyana was still absorbing the Ancient One's words when Tyson broke the heavy silence. "You should go."

His statement felt like a slap to her face, and she looked at him, her eyes filled with a sense of betrayal. "How can you say that?"

Tyson took a deep breath, meeting her eyes earnestly. "Look, you have five weeks to decide, right? Instead of waiting those five weeks, why don't you go and train? Use that time to see if Kamar-Taj is the right fit for you."

Illyana looked puzzled, her eyes searching Tyson's for a hidden meaning. "What are you trying to say?"

He leaned in, his words carefully chosen. "I'm saying you aren't a prisoner there. You have the freedom to decide at the end of the five weeks if you want to stay or come back. But at least you'd know, rather than spend the whole time wondering 'what if?'"

As Tyson spoke, Illyana's eyes flicked to the Ancient One, as if seeking confirmation. The Ancient One simply nodded. "He speaks the truth. You are bound only by the choices you make."

Illyana looked back at Tyson, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. It was a hard decision, but the logic was there. Five weeks of training could give her the insight she needed, without making an irreversible choice. Finally, she broke the silence. "Alright, I'll train at Kamar-Taj."

Tyson nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. But then, he turned to the Ancient One, a question furrowing his brow. "Will she be able to come back to New York after the five weeks?"

Illyana looked at him, confused. "What do you mean, 'come back'? Isn't this sanctum Kamar-Taj?"

The Ancient One shook her head, her voice retaining its mysterious calm. "Your suggestion is acceptable, Tyson. As for your question, Illyana, Kamar-Taj is not in New York. It's the place where sorcerers receive their training. It's located in Nepal."

Illyana blinked, her eyes widening. "Nepal? As in, halfway across the world Nepal?"

"Correct," the Ancient One confirmed. "It's far from here, a place that will challenge you, and help you grow."

"So," Tyson pressed, "she can return to New York after the training period?"

The Ancient One looked from Tyson to Illyana, then nodded. "At the end of her training period, I'll allow her to return to New York. You both can discuss your options then. If Illyana wishes to discontinue her training before the five weeks are up, she will be allowed to return to the New York Sanctum."

Tyson looked relieved. "Well, that settles it then. You get to go, train, and we'll still be able to see each other afterward to consider your decision."

Illyana felt a mixture of excitement and trepidation. "Alright. I'll do it." but as she looked at Tyson, she felt a twinge of sadness. She would be leaving behind the one person who had stood by her.

"You sure you're okay with this?" she asked Tyson, seeking reassurance.

He met her gaze, "I'm sure. It's an opportunity you can't pass up. And who knows, you might like it there." He could see the swirl of emotions mirrored in her gaze. "Guess this is it, huh?" Tyson said softly, his voice tinged with sadness.

Illyana nodded, her eyes suddenly shimmering with the first hint of tears. "Yeah. But this isn't it. It's not a goodbye, just a see-you-later."

Unable to bear the space between them any longer, Tyson stepped forward and pulled her into a tight hug. For a moment, they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, as if trying to memorize the feel.

Illyana pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, and then they kissed; softly, briefly. She felt a subtle tug, a lessening of her life energy. It was a kiss filled with a promise, a hint of the depths of their relationship that could not be fully explored. Not until Tyson learned to control his power, or Illyana learned to wield the magic demonstrated by the Ancient One.

"Can you do it again?" Illyana asked, her voice barely above a whisper, but full of urgency. "Can you cast that spell so I can...you know, say goodbye properly?"

The Ancient One looked at the young mutant for a few seconds, seemingly considering her request. Finally, she nodded. She looked at Tyson as she said, "One last chance. Make the most of it."

With graceful motions, The Ancient One waved her hands. The scene was mesmerizing. Vibrant sparks of gold and azure sprang to life in the air. Like tiny fireflies, they spiraled around, shimmering and dancing in delicate patterns. They were intricate and beautiful, illuminating the room. Each spark gradually began to converge on Illyana, who closed her eyes, allowing them to envelop her. As the last spark entered her, the room returned to its normal ambiance, signaling the completion of the spell.

Taking a deep breath, Illyana moved towards Tyson. They looked at each other, the weight of their farewell evident in their eyes. Then, as if drawn by an invisible force, they leaned in. Their lips met, gently at first, and then with increasing intensity. The world around them blurred, and for those few minutes, it felt like time had stopped. They held each other tightly. It was a moment of profound connection, of longing, of promises whispered without words.

But, like all things, the moment was fleeting. Reluctantly, they pulled apart, each taking a step back, their hands lingering until the very last second.

Illyana's eyes shimmered with tears, but she forced a smile, the weight of separation heavy in her heart. The Ancient One watched silently, understanding the depth of their bond and the challenge of their farewell.

"I know it's hard, but try not to miss me too much," Illyana said as they parted.

Tyson smiled sadly as Illyana wiped away a lone tear that had escaped down her cheek. "I'll try to find a way to survive your absence."

"Sure you will," she teased, but her smile faded as she glanced over Tyson's shoulder to see Master Drumm waiting patiently by the door. She leaned in, her lips close to his ear. "I still have the amulet," she whispered. "When I get back, we'll use it, okay? Practice with your power because twenty minutes isn’t long enough." Illyana wiped away the last of her tears. "I'll see you in a few weeks."

"Take care, Illyana. You’re going to do great."

With that final exchange, Illyana turned and walked toward Master Drumm, who led her into the inner sanctum, the door closing softly behind them. Tyson’s heart was both heavy and light, filled with the conflicting emotions of loss, sadness, and hope.

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The Ancient One gestured to the chairs surrounding the ornate wooden table. "Would you care to sit? There are some things we need to discuss."

"Of course," Tyson replied, taking a seat. "Can we speak candidly?"

At his request, the Ancient One’s fingers danced through the air as sparks flickered around them, drawing intricate arcane patterns that shimmered with otherworldly energy. With the final flourish of her wrist, the glowing pattern contracted before melding into the walls, forming an invisible shield.

"We can speak freely," she assured him. "No one outside this room will hear our conversation."

Taking a deep breath, Tyson looked the Ancient One squarely in the eyes. "I can't help but feel like you're separating Illyana and me purposefully. Is that part of her training or something more?"

The Ancient One picked up her cup of tea and took a slow sip before answering. "Every journey into the realm of sorcery comes with its trials… A quest, if you will, as well as a cost."

"So, Illyana's quest was to drive off Azazel, but that wasn’t her cost?" Tyson clarified, trying to grasp the mystifying rules of magic.

"Correct," she nodded. "Her quest was to rid Limbo of Azazel's influence. Her cost... is you."

Tyson felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "But why? Why do I have to be her cost?"

Setting her cup down, the Ancient One looked at him with empathy. "Illyana has few attachments in this world. Her brother, Limbo, and you. Of those, you are the only one she can truly 'sacrifice.' The cost of magic must be something of deep, personal significance."

"But what does that mean for us?" Tyson asked, his voice tinged with desperation. "Is our relationship a price that she pays for her power?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," the Ancient One replied. "Being a sorcerer is a path fraught with sacrifice. Many before her have paid similar prices, forsaking what they love to serve a greater cause. Your separation tests not only her resolve but also her capability to make the difficult choices that will inevitably lie ahead."

"I think I understand," Tyson said, pondering the required sacrifices. "Like Doctor Strange. His quest was…err… will be to find Kamar Taj and to learn to let go, to open his mind to new possibilities. His cost; his hands, his love, and his career as a doctor."

The Ancient One nodded, clearly pleased with his summation. "That's a simplified, but fair description of the path Steven Strange will walk. However, I must insist that you do not interfere with that journey, in any way."

Tyson looked at her, his eyes twinkling, "Is that my cost, then? To stay away from Doctor Strange?"

She laughed heartily. "If only it were that simple." Once her laughter subsided, Tyson saw an opportunity to steer the conversation back to his concerns.

"So what is my cost, then? What's my quest?"

The Ancient One's eyes grew serious. "Your quest is rather specific. You must ensure that New York survives the Chitauri invasion and that Thor Odinson returns to Asgard with the Tesseract at its conclusion."

Tyson looked away for a second, parsing his memories in confusion, "Isn't that what happens anyway? That’s the outcome if I do nothing, right?"

She shook her head. "A quest where you do nothing is hardly a quest. Although, for you, restraint might be a challenge all its own. Perhaps you will not need to act, and events will continue as you expect. Or perhaps events will change in unforeseeable ways, as other experiences have. But so long as Loki Laufeyson's scheme is thwarted and the Tesseract returns to Asgard, thus allowing the repair of the Bifrost and Rainbow Bridge, your quest requirements would be considered fulfilled."

Tyson says, "You speak as if the breaking of the Rainbow Bridge is a guarantee.”

The Ancient One remarks, "Things may not always play out as you expect as there are millions of possibilities. However, certain events are destined to occur. Try as you may, I have not foreseen an outcome where your actions prevent the destruction of the Rainbow Bridge."

Tyson frowned, considering the Ancient One's words carefully. The idea that some events were destined to happen, no matter what he did, didn't fully align with his understanding of timelines and alternate realities. The way he understood it, every choice created a branching path, spawning an infinite number of parallel timelines. This explanation was the most likely, especially considering Tyson shouldn't exist in this world. Preventing the Rainbow Bridge's destruction seemed like something that should be possible if the right actions were taken. As much as Tyson wanted to argue, he had to acknowledge she likely understood the workings of time better than he did.

Still, he decided to press the issue, if only to satisfy his curiosity. "With all due respect," he met the Ancient One's gaze. "How can you be so sure the Rainbow Bridge will be destroyed? Isn't it at least possible to create a different chain of events?"

The Ancient One smiled, though her eyes remained serious. She leaned forward, steepling her fingers together contemplatively. "In most cases, that would be true. However, to shift the course of pivotal moments, while possible, would require tremendous power and have potentially catastrophic consequences."

Tyson's brow furrowed as he absorbed her perspective. It seemed to contradict itself; affirming malleable timelines yet insisting certain points were immutable. Though he still didn't fully comprehend.

"So changing the outcome of the Rainbow Bridge's destruction..." Tyson said slowly. "That would require intervention beyond mine or invoke significant unforeseen consequences?" The Ancient One gave a single nod. Still, the protective, almost maternal look in her eyes told him she only wished to shield him from forces beyond his control. "I think I understand," Tyson finally replied. "Some things are just...beyond me. At least for now." He offered a small, resigned smile. "I'll just have to focus on fulfilling my quest."

The Ancient One's expression softened. "A wise choice. Accepting the limits of our reach is a difficult but necessary lesson for any sorcerer." She picked up her tea, taking a long, thoughtful sip before continuing. "We cannot control all outcomes. But we can control the choices we make in the moments before us. That is where our power lies."

Tyson nodded as the Ancient One spoke, but his mind was racing. He didn't care one bit about the fate of the Rainbow Bridge itself. What he was concerned about were the consequences of its destruction.

He knew from his memories that after the bridge exploded, Odin had awoken prematurely from his Odinsleep. The Allfather had already delayed his hibernation once before for Thor's botched coronation and subsequent banishment. By waking early again to save his sons from the unstable Bifrost, Odin weakened himself tremendously. Tyson suspected that, combined with Odin using dark magic to send Thor to Earth while the Rainbow Bridge was still destroyed contributed greatly to his eventual death during the events of Ragnarok. With Odin gone, Hela returned to decimate Asgard, and later Thanos retrieved the Tesseract, slaughtering half of the remaining Asgardians in the process.

Ultimately, the destruction of the Rainbow Bridge set off a disastrous chain of events. Destabilizing Asgard, and opening the door for Thanos to gather the Infinity Stones.

Tyson tuned back into the Ancient One's words, nodding politely. But internally, his mind was racing with the implications of his quest, and the true goal of diverting the oncoming storm that was Thanos. Tyson cared little about some magical space bridge, but he understood how one piece would bring down Asgard like a house of cards. He'd attempt to save the bridge, but if its destruction was inevitable, he'd try to save Thor and Loki, so Odin wouldn't have to.

Tyson leaned in, growing more curious. "Okay, I understand my quest, but what's the cost? Every quest has a cost, you said."

The Ancient One looked deep into his eyes. "Your cost will be paid along the way."

Tyson squinted, suspicious of the enigmatic response. "So, the whole 'finishing high school' thing was hogwash? I've got one year left, and if my memory serves me right, it's closer to two years until the Battle of New York."

"The time frame is indeed longer than a year," the Ancient One conceded. "However, one event doesn't preclude the other. Completing your education isn't a waste; it’s a different kind of preparation. Your quest and your cost aren’t separate from the life you live; they’re a part of it."

Tyson sat back, absorbing her words. "So you're saying that by living my life, fulfilling my quest, I'll eventually pay my cost, whatever that may be?"

The Ancient One nodded, "Exactly. In between are a myriad of choices for you to make. In almost every circumstance, these lead to your cost being paid. And when it is, you will know. And when you do, I hope you'll find the cost, the sacrifice was worthy of the power." she said, her voice carrying a note of finality that seemed to close this chapter of their discussion.

Tyson contemplated the Ancient One's words. Ward off the Chitauri invasion and ensure Thor returns to Asgard with the Tesseract. But it was also what she didn't say that lingered in his mind. She had made no mention of Loki's Scepter, the weapon that housed the Mind Stone. Was she giving her blessing to take it? It seemed like implied permission. The Mind Stone set off a cascade of events that Tyson couldn't ignore. Loki’s scepter eventually made it into the hands of Hydra leading to the Maximoff twins becoming Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver. No Scepter, no Ultron. No Ultron, then Vision would never be created, and never house the Mind Stone in his synthetic forehead. Then, ultimately, the stone wouldn't be torn from Vision’s forehead by Thanos, sending Wanda Maximoff spiraling into an abyss of grief and… madness. Each event was like a domino, and he had the potential to knock the first one off course. But should he? And was it even that simple? Tyson had already run into Magneto twice, and he was supposedly the Maximoff twins’ father in some comics. Was it possible they were mutants that already had their powers, and the Infinity Stone wasn’t part of their origin?

Shaking his head, he realized he was getting ahead of himself. These were issues for another day, problems that were years yet to come. But the seed had been planted. Up until now, he had often been reactive, jumping from crisis to crisis as they appeared before him. That wouldn't be enough. When the sky over New York opened up and alien forces poured through, he couldn't afford to improvise; he would need a plan.

Tyson was deep in thought when the Ancient One slid a manila folder across the table, snapping him back to the present. Intrigued, he opened the folder and was met with a stack of papers that looked strangely familiar yet completely foreign. A Birth Certificate, a Social Security Card, and a Mississippi Driver's License; all bearing his name and face. Well, almost his name. He looked at the photo on the license; it showed him as he was when he first arrived in this world.

The image wasn't an exact match to his current appearance, but he mused that teenagers change quickly as they go through puberty. Maybe he could pass it off as an old photo. Then he noticed the last name on all the documents.

Smith.

"Is this a joke?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

The Ancient One sipped her tea, her eyes twinkling just a bit as she hid her smirk behind the cup. "No, it's all quite valid," she assured him. "Foreknowledge can be a useful tool."

"I can see that," Tyson said, a little amused by the 'Smith' detail.

His eyes then moved to a large stapled packet at the bottom of the folder. He quickly skimmed through it. First, he saw transcripts from Rogue's school in Mississippi. Then, somewhat surprisingly, there were transcripts from his partial semester at Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters. And lastly, high school enrollment papers for a place he recognized.

Midtown School of Science and Technology.

"Midtown High? Really?" he questioned, genuinely puzzled.

The Ancient One set her teacup down. "Midtown offers an excellent curriculum, particularly in the sciences. It would be beneficial for you."

Tyson rolled his eyes, "And if I don't want to follow this script you've written?" he asked.

Tyson studied the Ancient One's expression, trying to discern any hidden motivations behind her suggestion. Her eyes held a knowing look that made him suspect there was more to this.

"If you would prefer, you're welcome to return to Xavier's Institute, or attend the Massachusetts Academy, or any number of public schools," the Ancient One said smoothly. "I was merely presenting a possibility I thought you might find appealing."

Tyson considered her words. He knew Midtown High held significance in this world. But Tyson chafed at the idea of having his choices dictated. Ever since arriving in this world, it felt like he'd been swept along by forces beyond his control. First Magneto, then Stryker, and now sorcerers. He was tired of reacting, tired of having his path decided for him.

"I appreciate you looking out for me," Tyson began carefully. "But I think I need to figure this out on my own. I've spent too much time being tugged in every direction. When I return to high school, I want it to be my choice, not what someone else laid out for me."

He unflinchingly met the Ancient One's eyes, silently asserting his right to self-determination. Tyson expected to be met with stern refusal, but instead, her expression softened into an approving smile.

"I cannot make your choices for you, nor would I wish to. The offer still stands, but the decision is yours alone," she said with a nod.

The future felt heavy with the weight of impending threats, but he was determined to meet it on his terms.

"Thank you for understanding," Tyson replied sincerely. "I know you're trying to help steer me down the right path. But I need to walk it myself."

He gathered up the documents and slid them back into the folder. For the first time since arriving in this world, Tyson felt like he was regaining control over his life. Wherever he ended up next, it would be on his terms.

~~Rogue Replacement~~

Tyson pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped out onto the cobblestone streets of Greenwich Village. The scene outside the sanctum was a stark contrast to the serene mysticism within. The sidewalk was bustling with people. But despite the clamor and noises, Tyson felt an emptiness, a profound loneliness. Illyana's familiar presence, her wit and charm, were gone. He missed the mutants from the institute too. Every face in the crowd around him was a stranger.

Tyson began to walk, but not in the usual way. Channeling Illyana's power, every step he took felt like a leap through space. It was accompanied by the sensation of the world around him folding and unfolding with each stride. Within moments, the Sanctum was a distant blur. Half a dozen steps, and he found himself inside his room in the Four Seasons downtown.

As he sat on the bed, a sudden realization washed over him.

The Ancient One’s spell. Like before fighting Azazel, the moment she’d given him would allow her ability to linger. He’d have Illyana’s power coursing through him for the next seven hours, giving him a unique advantage. He could travel to Limbo at will…

Or he could use it to earn some money, especially since he hadn't secured a job.

Tyson's mind raced, brainstorming the possibilities. The window of opportunity was narrow which limited his options. But with Illyana's power at his fingertips, Tyson knew he had the means to change his circumstances. He just needed to figure out how.

Tyson paced back and forth in his hotel room, his thoughts spiraling into darker territory. A dangerous idea began to form in his mind. What if he could rob a bank? With Illyana’s power, he could be in and out of a bank vault within seconds, leaving no trace behind. It was almost too tempting. The allure of quick money, the thrill of the heist, and the assurance of his getaway weighed heavily on his conscience.

"Just this once," he whispered to himself, trying to justify the idea. "One heist and I'd have enough to be set."

But deep down, he knew it wouldn't be enough. What bank had the kind of money he needed? He needed a bigger score, something substantial, something that would be enough for a long time. That's when the thought of Oscorp entered his mind. If he was going to cross a line, it should be worth it. Oscorp was a giant conglomerate with secrets and military prototypes. But what could he take that would be valuable? He needed something he could sell. Who would he even sell a prototype or some groundbreaking tech that hadn't been released yet? A rival company or a foreign country? With his ability to jump in and out of places, Tyson could potentially infiltrate Oscorp, find something of worth, and disappear before anyone realized what had happened.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he grappled with his conscience. "Could I become the villain, even if it's just for one day?" he wondered aloud.

He weighed his options. He had an extraordinary opportunity, with Illyana’s powers at his disposal, but there was the very real risk of becoming something he didn’t want to be. Tyson would have to make a decision. The allure of quick riches battled against the morals he held himself to.

Tyson sat at the edge of his hotel bed, tapping his foot rhythmically against the polished wooden floor. In his mind's eye, he envisioned the bank vaults, overflowing with money. But was that the kind of life he wanted to chase after?

His fingers drummed on the bedspread. "If I'm going to do this," he mumbled, "it has to be for something monumental."

He thought about what the value of his integrity was. A hundred thousand? Millions? The idea seemed absurd. But what about billions?

He chuckled, the sound dry and humorless. "Yeah, right. Like there's something I can just grab that's worth billions."

But then, a realization slowly dawned upon him. He thought of the Ancient One’s words when she cast the spell allowing Tyson and Illyana to say goodbye. She hadn’t spoken to Illyana, she’d looked directly at Tyson when she said, “One last chance. Make the most of it."

Of course, the Ancient One knew what he would be planning. She knew what he would do.

"I can't believe I'm even considering this," Tyson whispered as he planned his future.