After the dark clouds above the Himalayan Mountains dispersed, the weather turned clear. The sky was an eerily violet blue. Barry, drenched in sweat after finishing his training at the practice grounds, carried his wand back to his dormitory, planning to take a shower and then nap for a while.
He saw Little Bruce still bent over his desk. The table was piled high with documents, while the entire sheet of parchment beneath his pen was covered in twisted, bizarre symbols that ordinary people could not bear to look at. Barry felt dizzy after only one glance.
"Another pathetic fool obsessed with forbidden knowledge." A voice rang out in Barry's mind. Doctor Strange, pale-faced within his consciousness, wore a mocking smile as he said, "Before long, your companion will be consumed by knowledge humans simply cannot understand. He has taken the wrong path, so the faster he walks, the closer he gets to destruction."
"Is devouring counterparts from other universes the right path, then?" Barry said sarcastically. "You're worse than he is."
"I will forgive that little insult, child, but only because of my mercy. Don't forget, you still need me to deal with your companions."
Barry fell silent and said nothing further. Over the past few days of conversation, he had more or less figured out the origins of the man who had come to him in his dreams. He claimed to be Stephen Strange from another universe, known in that universe as Doctor Strange.
However, this man had taken a path different from the Strange Barry knew. He possessed a Divine Artifact called the Darkhold and used dreamwalking to devour the power of Doctor Stranges from other universes.
According to him, he had already devoured quite a few counterparts from other universes and gained immense power from them.