Stephen Strange's First Look at the Sanctum

When someone was destitute and at the end of his rope, then got surrounded, beaten, and robbed by a group of people, he could be said to have truly experienced despair.

Then Mordo descended from the heavens to play the hero saving the beauty... Well, it was roughly that sort of thing. At that moment, Strange fully understood what it meant to go from despair to hope, and he was surely filled with goodwill toward Kamar-Taj.

More importantly, Evenson had now cut off all his avenues of retreat. Other than walking this one path to the bitter end, he had no other way out.

Thus, led by Mordo, Strange walked all the way toward Kamar-Taj. As they were nearing it, Strange saw several ascetics sitting cross-legged on meditation cushions, prayer beads in hand, their bodies smeared with white ash. Instinctively, he wanted to turn that way, but Mordo led him across the street instead.

"Are you sure this is the place? That place looks more like... Kamar-Taj." Strange asked Mordo hesitantly. After all, the place before him was far too different from the mysterious sanctuary he had imagined.

There was an old red-brick wall that looked poorly maintained, with an utterly ordinary wooden door set into it. It truly had the air of some tiny, shabby household. Honestly, even the entrance to Evenson's little shop in New York was wider than this, and there was no point even comparing the space inside.

"I asked the same question once." Mordo gave a very slight smile. "Back then, I wasn't very polite either. Let me give you some advice: forget everything you think you know."

"All right..." Strange's eyes shifted. "Will that help me fit in here faster?"

"No..." Mordo shook his head, recalling certain arrangements Evenson had made before they set