The Ancient One's Way of Repaying Debt

Let the multiverse suffer a little.

And let me, Strange, take the blame?

Doctor Strange did not even dare imagine what his reputation across the multiverse would become if he helped Ian trick a bunch of Dimension Demon Gods to their deaths.

And he would absolutely be singled out at some grand conference. The other Dimension Demon Gods who learned about it might not dare provoke Ian, but would they really not dare provoke a tiny Sorcerer Supreme like him?

Doctor Strange might have been Ian's lapdog, but he made it clear he wanted no part of this divine decree.

"I can't," he said.

Ian raised an eyebrow. "Can't what?"

"I can't entrap people," Strange said with righteous confidence, even puffing out his chest a little, trying to look more assured. "I'm a mage, not a fisherman. I've only learned summoning spells, not fishing techniques. Find someone else."

Ian looked at him, a faint, subtle emotion in his eyes.

That emotion seemed to say—are you sure you want to refuse me?

Strange felt a little guilty, but still braced himself and said, "I really can't. Go find someone else. I'm not the only Doctor Strange. Go find one in another universe. You can cross universes anyway."

The more he spoke, the more justified he felt.

Exactly. Why did it have to be him? There were so many Doctor Stranges in this universe, and parallel universes had them by the handful. Couldn't Ian just casually find one willing to help? Why insist on making things hard for him?

Ian fell silent for a second.

Then he spoke, his voice very calm. "You mean you're not willing to help me?"

Strange opened his mouth.

He wanted to say, "Yes, I'm not willing," but those three words stuck in his throat and would