Marvel Cinematic Universe

He left the second he decided to.

That had always been Ian's style.

Of course.

He had not completely let the old man Ancient One off the hook either.

Ian had decided that he would definitely give this "Best Actor," Strange, and the "chief director" behind him, Ancient One, a sufficiently "profound" experience of "catching up."

Since the score had not been settled for now, the interest would naturally keep rolling over. For the old man Ancient One, who had just breathed a sigh of relief, that was not necessarily a good thing.

He still did not really understand Ian.

Whoosh!

Ian vanished like the wind.

The attempt to track Strange did not go the way Ian had expected.

He did not descend directly in front of that slippery mage.

When he activated a targeted cross-universe teleport through the contractual bond with Strange, a strange sensation of weightlessness and separation enveloped him. The scene in his vision was not the simple distortion of light and shadow from a spatial jump, but a far more macro, more essential image. It was as if he had instantly broken away from the original "bubble," passed through a thin yet resilient "membrane," and then fallen into another "bubble" completely different in size, sheen, and internal scenery.

The feeling was like jumping from a dream bubble filled with magical realism into a narrative bubble that looked more "standard" and more "classic."

Only then.

The teleportation completed, and his feet touched solid ground.

Ian found himself standing on a broad, busy street. The afternoon sunlight was a little dazzling, and the air carried the familiar smell of a city—car exhaust, the aroma of coffee, and the greasy smoke from hot dog stands. High-rises stood all around, traffic streamed past, pedestrians hurried by, and everything was filled