Mirror Dimension is like a piece of smashed glass, falling apart in mid-air.
The distorted city streetscape, upside-down skyscrapers, and all the bizarre fragments are dissipating silently, turning into the most primitive energy points.
Strange and Mordo fell out of the broken void and fell heavily on the cold marble floor of Sanctum.
Strange coughed up blood and struggled to get up. His red Cloak of Levitation had a few holes and his face was stained, but his eyes were harder and brighter than before. He won and used his own way to hold on to his bottom line.
Mordo completely collapsed.
He knelt on the ground, supporting the ground with his hands, and scanned everything in front of him with empty eyes. Sanctum had become a ruin, and the walls were covered with bottomless holes, which were the traces of the battle between Chu Hang and Dormammu; there were ferocious gaps on the floor, as if the earth was groaning.
Finally, his eyes were fixed on the man half-kneeling not far away, with golden steam coming out of his body.
That man is like a walking disaster. He is the greatest blasphemer of all rules.
"Did you see it, Strange..." Mordo's voice was dry and astringent, like rusty iron pieces rubbing together, "This is the price. This is the price for your abuse of power!"
He slowly stood up, the last bit of struggle and pain in his eyes disappeared, leaving only a chilling calmness.
"The Ancient One stole the power of Dark Dimension to continue Life Law. In order to win, you played with Law of Time wantonly." Mordo raised his trembling hand and pointed at Chu Hang, "If the person in front of you one day grows into an existence like Dormammu, it will be a disaster for the world."
A twisted and sad smile suddenly appeared on his face, as if he was pitying Strange, pity himself, and pity this world that is treated as a playground by mages.
After saying that, his body fell heavily to the ground, lifeless.
Strange opened his mouth, but in the end not a single word came out.
He dragged his tired body and walked up to Chu Hang. Looking at the wounds on his body that should have been fatal but were healing at an alarming speed, Strange's expression was extremely complicated, mixed with gratitude, awe, and a deep sense of powerlessness.
"Thank you." Strange's voice was very low, with the hoarseness of a survivor, "I... I need a little time. The Ancient One's death, Mordo's betrayal... I need time to..."
He looked down at the cold Eye of Agamotto on his chest, his eyes full of confusion. He won the battle, but seemed to have lost everything.
"Time?" Chu Hang supported his knees and stood up slowly. As he moved, the wounds on his body quickly scabbed and fell off, revealing the intact skin underneath. He exhaled a breath of turbid air that smelled of blood, and his eyes were like two freshly tempered knives, stabbing straight at Strange.
"What you lack most now is time."
He walked up to Strange, and the two were so close that Strange could smell the peculiar smell of gunpowder smoke and ozone mixed with Chu Hang's body.
"What kind of title do you think Sorcerer Supreme is? Is it the Nobel Prize in the wizarding world? Is it a certificate of honor?" Chu Hang's lips curled up with a touch of sarcasm, "No, it's a shackles. From the moment the Ancient One hands it to you, your sadness, your confusion, and all your little emotions are all fucking luxuries."
Chu Hang stretched out his finger and tapped the shining green gem on Strange's chest unceremoniously.
He stared into Strange's eyes and said word by word, "Don't let your personal emotions become a loophole for others to invade."
These words were like a basin of cold water filled with ice, which chilled Strange from head to toe.
He woke up instantly.
Yes, he is Sorcerer Supreme now. He has no time to be sad, nor is he qualified to be confused.
Strange took a deep breath, straightened his spine, and the fragility on his face disappeared, and he turned back into the calm and decisive surgeon.
"I understand."
"Very good." Chu Hang nodded with satisfaction, and then pointed to the Black Noir energy residue on the ground that was like oil stains and exuded an ominous aura. "I need some samples left by Dormammu for research. Is that okay?"
Strange twitched the corner of his mouth and showed a wry smile. He knew that this favor would not be so easy to repay.
"Of course, you can take it as you please. If you keep it here, it will be a disaster."
"Deal."
Chu Hang was not polite, stretched out his palm towards the ground, and grabbed the void.
Law of Space activated. The Dark Dimension energy stubbornly attached to the walls and floors seemed to be forcibly torn off by an invisible big hand, making a "sizzling" sound and gathering into his palm.
The complex energy was crazily compressed and purified by him using the power of space, and finally turned into a pure Black Noir crystal that was only the size of a fingernail, but as black as ink, and seemed to be able to absorb all light.
He casually put the crystal into his pocket, turned around and left, simply and neatly.
"Hey!" Strange shouted behind him, "Where are you going?"
"Go home and sleep."
Chu Hang waved his hand without looking back, and his figure faded out of thin air on the spot, like a projection with poor signal, flickering twice and disappearing completely.
Strange stood alone in the empty and dilapidated Sanctum, looking at the mess on the ground and the newly lit sky outside the window, and let out a long sigh.
New York, underground base.
Chu Hang sat cross-legged on the metal floor, placed the Black Noir crystal brought back from Sanctum in front of him, and closed his eyes.
Detailed information about the new ability [Dimension Invasion] unfolded in his mind like a tide.
S-level ability, huge potential.
He can tear off a small part of his own strength and will, and project it to other Multiverse like a detector. This part of the power will automatically build a clone according to local laws.
The avatar has the ability to act independently. Everything it sees, learns, and even new abilities it copies will be synchronized back to its body in real time through a kind of quantum entanglement of Transcendence space-time.
This is simply a wool-picking skill tailor-made for "travelers" like him.
But he soon discovered the huge limitations of this ability. The initial strength of the clone depends entirely on the quality and quantity of the power torn out of his body.
With his current Near-Skyfather level strength, even if he grits his teeth and tears off 10% of his strength, the clone he creates will only have the combat power of destroying an artificial satellite with one punch.
Satellite level.
Chu Hang frowned. This level is not even comparable to that of Carol who had just awakened Binary. If you send someone like this to other universes, especially some worlds with high martial arts and high magic, you may be slapped to death as a soldier as soon as you land.
He didn't believe in evil and decided to try it himself.
He concentrated his mind and his will sank into the vast ocean composed of the power of various laws in his body. He carefully reached out a tentacle of mental power and hooked a small force of his own. Then, he pulled it out suddenly!
Severe pain came, as if someone had torn a piece of flesh from his Soul Law alive.
The air in front of him began to fluctuate violently, and a translucent "Chu Hang" with an illusory outline slowly took shape. The facial features were blurred, and the body seemed to be made of water waves, which could collapse at any time.
Chu Hang can clearly feel the spiritual link between himself and this clone. He can control it like his own hands and feet, and he can also see the room through its "eyes".
But he could feel even more that this clone... was very weak.
Poorly weak.
He tried to order his clone to pick up a glass of water on the table. The illusory palm stretched out, but passed through the middle of the glass without any hindrance, unable to even perform the most basic physical interference.
He tried to get the clone to speak again, but it only produced a burst of unexplained static-like noise.
"It seems that the principal is still not thick enough." Chu Hang sighed and gave up trying.
With a thought, he took back his power. The translucent clone immediately turned into countless light spots, flew back like fireflies, and reintegrated into his body. The pain of tearing Soul Law slowly disappeared.
He completely understood that this matter cannot be rushed. In order for the clone to have enough strength to travel to other worlds, the premise is that he must first step into Skyfather-level steadily.
Only when it reaches that level can every piece of flesh he tears off be of sufficient weight and can be regarded as a high-quality asset, rather than a junk stock that will be wasted when thrown out.
Chu Hang temporarily shelved the extremely tempting plan [Dimension Invasion] and picked up the pitch-black Dormammu energy crystal.
He planned to analyze it carefully to see if this pure power of devouring and corrupting could bring some new and evil ideas to his multi-law fusion path.
Meanwhile, California, Malibu beach.
In the mansion of Tony·Stark, the atmosphere is so stiff that it can make you sweat.
Pepper·Potts was wearing a smart professional suit, holding a pile of documents that needed his signature in his arms, and his face was full of helplessness and exhaustion.
"Tony, you haven't slept for three days in a row." She looked at the man who was beating crazily against a bunch of holographic projections, with a hint of pleading in her voice, "New York The war is over, you have to come out."
"I can't get out!"
Tony turned around suddenly and stared at her with bloodshot eyes.
"You haven't seen it, Pepper! You don't even know what it is! That damn wormhole, those endless alien armies! We were almost finished! And I'm just a human in an iron shell! How can I protect you? How can I protect this world?"
His voice became shrill with excitement, filled with unconcealable anxiety and fear deep in his bones. Battle of New York left a scar in his mind that would never heal.
"So you just lock yourself here and keep making these iron lumps like a madman?" Pepper pointed at the rows of brand-new but cold Iron Man Armor in the studio, from Mark7 to Mark42, like a row of soldiers waiting for inspection without Soul Law.
"They are not iron lumps!" Tony roared hysterically, "They are a sense of security! They are the answer!"
The two had a fierce quarrel and eventually broke up.
Pepper disappointedly put the file on the table and turned to leave. When the door closed, Tony seemed to have had all his strength taken away and collapsed on the sofa tiredly.
As soon as he closed his eyes, his mind was filled with the bottomless Black Noir wormhole and Chitauri's lifeless gray face.
A strong sense of suffocation seized him instantly.
He suddenly jumped up from the sofa, breathing heavily, and the Arc Reactor blue light on his chest flashed rapidly, like a heart on the verge of failure.
"JARVIS." His voice was hoarse.
"Sir, I'm always here."
"Whatever... activate a suit of armor and let it come over to accompany me."
"Okay, sir. We are deploying Mark 42 for you."
A moment later, the gold and red Mark 42 armor flew from a distance and landed awkwardly on the sofa in the living room. It made a loud "clang" sound and the expensive leather sofa was pressed deeply.
Tony turned sideways, curled up like an injured child, and gently rested his head on the cold metal breastplate.