Shadows in the Library and Shattered Pride

Nepal, Kathmandu. Snow and wind still ravaged this ancient land.

Stephen Strange, once a renowned top neurosurgeon, was now merely a vagabond with filthy bandages wrapped around both hands, his eyes bloodshot with despair. He had spent his last penny, dragged his nearly ruined legs along, and, guided by nothing more than a vague legend, found this seemingly ordinary wooden door—the entrance to Kamar-Taj.

Baron Mordo introduced him to the Ancient One. That soul-separation journey that had overturned his worldview, along with the vast multiverse the Ancient One had shown him, was like a blazing light that pierced his materialistic understanding of the world—yet left him even more lost. Could such tremendous power repair his trembling hands?

With his resentment, doubts, and a sliver of lingering hope, Strange was allowed to consult the tomes in Kamar-Taj's library. Like an agitated trapped beast, he prowled among countless shelves filled with obscure knowledge, trying to find the spell or remedy that could "restore him to normal." Sweat and dust mingled on his expensive coat, now tattered and worn.

Just as he irritably tried to reach with his trembling hand for a massive volume placed high above, titled Vishanti's Healing Light, a steady, slender hand beat him to it and effortlessly took down the book.

Strange froze, then turned his head in annoyance.

Then he saw Li Wei.

Li Wei was not dressed in the robes commonly worn by Kamar-Taj's sorcerers. Instead, he wore a modern black suit tailored to perfection, utterly out of place in this ancient, dust-covered library. An indescribably tranquil aura surrounded him, as though he were isolated from the commotion around him and Strange's agitation. Most striking of all was the unusually designed metal vambrace on his right arm, "Startrail," and those eyes—deep as the starry sky, carrying an aloofness that seemed to see through every secret in the world.

Strange could sense that the other sorcerer apprentices reading nearby looked at the man in the suit with unconscious reverence. Some even bowed slightly in greeting.

"Looking for this?" Li Wei asked, his voice calm and even. He held Healing Light out before Strange, but did not let go.

Strange looked at the book, then at Li Wei's hands, so steady they made him burn with envy. A surge of inferiority, anger, and longing rose within him. Suppressing his tremors, he reached for it and said hoarsely, "Y-yes. Thank you."

But Li Wei did not give it to him immediately. His gaze fell upon Strange's bandaged hands, which still trembled faintly beyond his control. It was neither sympathy nor pity, but something more like... scrutiny, like a scientist observing an interesting case.

"Doctor Stephen Strange," Li Wei said, calling him by name with perfect accuracy, his tone flat. "A brilliant surgeon who believed scalpels and science could control everything, until... control was lost."

Strange's body stiffened sharply, as though the most painful scar had been struck. "Who are you? How do you know that?"

"I am Li Wei. A... passing observer." The corner of Li Wei's lips lifted slightly, but there was no warmth in his smile. "You're searching for a way to heal your hands? You think that if you find the right 'spell' or 'technique,' you can return to the past and regain control of your fate?"

Strange was enraged by his condescending attitude, as though he could see through everything. "Isn't that why I came here?! Master Ancient One showed me those powers! They're real!"

"Power does exist." Li Wei released the book, letting Strange catch the heavy tome somewhat awkwardly. "But what do you think power is? A tool you can use whenever you please? A miracle cure that fixes everything with the press of a button?"

He took a step forward. Though they were of similar height, he brought an invisible pressure down upon Strange.

"Look at your hands, Strange." Li Wei's voice was low and clear, each word like a hammer striking Strange's heart. "They were once the foundation of your pride, the stairs that led you to your pedestal. But now, they are your shackles—the pillars of shame that remind you of your 'failure' every moment."

"Do you truly want to heal them so you can 'save people'? Or is it because... you cannot accept the self who fell from that pedestal, became 'ordinary,' and now has to depend on others?"

Those words were like an icy dagger, precisely cutting open the heart Strange had desperately tried to conceal. His face went pale, his lips trembled, and he wanted to retort, only to find that he could not even form a complete sentence. Because everything Li Wei had said was true. What he could not bear was not being unable to operate, but losing that sense of superiority that came from controlling everything.

"The power of Kamar-Taj, and indeed all power throughout the multiverse," Li Wei continued, his gaze sweeping across the library's tomes that recorded magic capable of destroying worlds, "has never existed to satisfy an individual's 'regrets' or 'pride.' It is responsibility. It is shackles. It is a ticket to deeper pain and sacrifice."

"You cling to repairing these two 'hands,' yet fail to see that what the Ancient One wishes to give you is a 'lever' capable of moving entire dimensions." Li Wei shook his head, a trace of nearly imperceptible mockery in his tone. "Perspective, Doctor Strange. You are trapped in that pitiful little pride and pain of yours. Your perspective is far too small."

With that, Li Wei no longer looked at him, as if he had lost interest. He turned and walked toward the deeper shadows of the library, where forbidden scrolls concerning the nature of time and dimensions lay—texts that even ordinary sorcerers were forbidden to touch. Wherever he passed, the apprentices silently stepped aside.

Strange stood frozen in place, clutching the heavy Healing Light, which felt as though it weighed a thousand tons. Li Wei's words echoed madly through his mind. Humiliation, anger, but more than that... confusion and shock after his disguise had been forcibly torn away.

He had always believed his goal was clear—to heal his hands. But Li Wei had told him that goal itself was narrow-minded, an obstacle preventing him from seeing true power.

"Perspective... far too small..." he murmured, beginning for the first time to truly examine why he had come to Kamar-Taj.

He watched Li Wei's back vanish into the shadows. The mystery and power surrounding that man formed a cruel contrast with Strange's present wretchedness and insignificance. An unprecedented, tangled emotion grew within him—resentment and anger, but also a sliver of something he refused even to admit to himself... the clarity of being awakened, and a faint yet firm desire to surpass that retreating figure.

This first encounter offered no warm encouragement, no predetermined guidance—only cold reality and an almost cruel exposure of the truth. Li Wei gave Strange no hope, yet amid the ruins of his despair, he forcibly planted a seed concerning the "nature of power" and "self-transcendence."

Whether that seed could sprout, and what kind of plant it would grow into, no one knew. But from this moment onward, Strange's path as a sorcerer was destined to diverge from its original course.