The Blind Man

The three reacted extremely quickly, different lights flaring in each of their hands. Strange took the lead on offense, Wong cast a defensive spell formation, and Rajiv pinched an aging curse in his left hand and a sealing formation in his right, ready at any moment to invite whatever had invaded the Sanctum Sanctorum to a feast.

Unfortunately, none of their spells could be used anymore.

Because the one who came was Chthon.

The God of the Underworld's head poked out from the air as though through a split in it, thick darkness coiling in his eyes. This God of the Underworld, famous for being a thrill-seeker and a flake, looked unexpectedly grave at this moment.

Strange instinctively felt something was wrong. Someone who was always angry turning calm, someone forever unruffled flying into a rage, a clown in a circus breaking down in tears—all of these could be called abnormal phenomena. And anything abnormal counted as something bad.

Chthon walked out of his Dark Dimension. This great God of the Underworld, who had not truly left his own dimension in over a hundred thousand years, once again stood upon what had once been his homeland, yet he did not look particularly nostalgic.

He took a pale purple gem from his robes, and Strange frowned—that was the Dynamo Stone, stored in Ancient One's cenotaph, the core of the Great Barrier's formation. How had it ended up in Chthon's hands?

However, the God of the Underworld clearly had no intention of playing riddles with him right now. He simply shoved the gem into Strange's hand and said, "He gave this to me. Don't ask, and don't say much. Listen, I have news to tell you. Prepare yourselves."

The three looked at one another. In the end, it was Strange who nodded.