"And an even greater difference lies in the styles of the magical worlds in the two universes." Strange spoke at just the right moment, interrupting the suggestive, secretly meaningful conversation between the teacher and student.
"During this time, I read nearly all of your books recording the history of the magical world, and I discovered something rather strange. No matter who the recorder was, what era he lived in, or who his patron was, he showed an enormous tendency to record every conversation he had with supernatural beings."
"What's wrong with that?" Zatanna spread her hands. "If mages don't record that, what else are they supposed to record?"
"But the historical texts of the magical world in our universe usually record every fight the mages ever had."
Strange gripped the armrests and gently pushed himself up from his chair. He began pacing in front of the screen, drawing everyone's attention.
"What strikes me as particularly strange is that the mages in your universe seem to always follow rules that appear utterly meaningless to me. The one I find hardest to understand is that, after encountering certain powerful beings, their first reaction is to talk to them."
"What is the point of that?" Strange looked deeply puzzled. He gently shook his head and said, "Do mages expect these strange creatures—life-forms completely different from humans, never human, and never capable of understanding humans—to understand them? How could that possibly work?"
"Even when we are all human, differences in race, nationality, and upbringing create all kinds of conflicts. People fundamentally cannot understand one another, so how could anyone seek validation from Demon Gods?"
"What I find most incomprehensible is that the most commonly recorded thing in your histories is, 'Mage so-and-so asked some powerful being the answer to some question.' But the question