Stephen Strange skimmed over everything before him without truly understanding it. The rapidly shifting, bizarre sights nearly made him vomit. His body kept breaking apart and reassembling; the first one or two times amazed him, but the hundreds and thousands that followed left him numb. "You think you understand the laws by which the world operates?" he heard the Sorcerer Supreme say. "You think the material world is everything? Then how do you define reality? What mysteries lie beyond your understanding? The root of so-called 'existence' is the union of spirit and matter, reality shaped by thought. You use sight, smell, taste, hearing, and touch to understand this world, yet science has proven that there are spectra and electromagnetic waves invisible to the naked eye, infrasonic and ultrasonic sounds beyond human hearing. So how can you be certain there is no truth beyond the dogma of empiricism that you already know?"
"I... I don't know." Stephen Strange barely managed to speak, but his voice echoed and warped through the endlessly stretching dimensions, eventually becoming an indescribable whisper. He was surrounded by light, and every sight that entered his eyes gave him the urge to throw himself into it. He felt naked and exposed before terrifying waves of energy. Illusory creatures stretched malformed limbs out from within them, while malicious laughter rang repeatedly in his ears. This was not happening now, nor was it the past or future. This place transcended time; every horrifying image he could imagine had become reality here.
"This universe is merely one among countless universes. The worlds have no end. Some are kind and beautiful, brimming with life; others are filled with malice and wicked desire. In the dark places, powers older than time itself lurk, coveting all things and waiting for their chance. In this