Two Titans Prepare to Ascend

Tony's private laboratory was dazzlingly bright. The moment Peter stepped inside, he felt like an ant that had strayed into an alien spaceship.

Various instruments, whose names I don't know, gleamed with an eerie light, while the suspended 3D projection data flowed silently, and the air was filled with a mixture of high-grade metal and cleaning agent odors.

"Alright, Pajama Baby, stop standing there like an idiot," Tony snapped his the Snap, and the floor in the center of the laboratory silently slid open, revealing a silver-gray cylindrical platform that slowly rose up. On the platform stood a mannequin wearing a red and blue... battle suit.

Peter's eyes sparkled with countless tiny stars.

"Wow!" He pounced forward nimbly. "This... this is?"

Tony, hands in his pockets, smugly said, "What else? Should I let you keep wearing that tattered rag that shows your butt?"

He stepped forward and pointed his finger at the edge of the platform.

Whoosh! The entire suit instantly came to life, every fiber shimmering with a high-tech luster, and the spider logo on the chest was simple and small.

Unlike his MK armor's metallic and technological feel, this suit, when not activated, appears quite ordinary, except for its much better materials.

"Basic nanofiber is lightweight and high-strength. Its kinetic energy absorption efficiency is... well, I'm too lazy to calculate it, but it's much stronger."

Tony spoke rapidly, with a touch of the boastfulness typical of tech geeks, "Adaptive to ambient temperature, limited life support system—don't expect to go to space. Basic bulletproof level, enough to handle those punks in Queens."

He paused, a smirk playing on his lips. "Of course, there's also your favorite swing function. The Silk shooter has been upgraded, with more modes and adjustable stickiness. Friday will teach you."

"Fri... Friday?" Peter's voice was trembling.

"Hmm, your new babysitter and coach." As Tony finished speaking, the worn-out modified watch face on Peter's wrist silently shattered and fell off—he didn't even notice—and was replaced by a smooth, understated metal wristband.

A gentle yet clear female voice rang directly in his ear:

"Mr. Parker, this is Friday. It's a pleasure to assist you. I will be responsible for monitoring your suit's status, conducting tactical analysis, scanning your surroundings, making emergency calls, and recording routine behavior."

"Behavior... record?" Peter caught the key phrase.

Tony walked to the nearby workbench, picked up a cup of coffee, and said matter-of-factly, "What else? Did you think I gave you this top-of-the-line gear so you could wear it to breakdance on the rooftops of Queens? Friday will record every single one of your 'community service' moments, analyzing your decision-making, efficiency, and risk management—especially when you're wearing this outfit."

He took a sip of coffee. "Every night, she'll give you an 'internship summary,' with grades and comments. And me," Tony pointed to himself, "I can access it anytime. To see if I've been fooling around, trying to be a hero, or... embarrassing me."

Peter felt as if he'd been hit by a huge pie, and then a mountain had been added to his back. "Grades? Comments? Stark, this sounds like a combination of Aunt May and a teacher..."

"More exciting than that," Tony put down his coffee cup and tapped the workbench. "The suit has dozens of 'little surprises' pre-installed for you—special function modules. However," he raised an eyebrow smugly, "Besides the basic functions I just mentioned being unlocked, the rest? Not a chance."

"Huh?" Peter dumbfounded.

"The unlocking conditions depend on your 'internship report' comments, and also," Tony paused deliberately, enjoying Peter's instantly tense expression.

"It's all about my mood. Maybe one day I'll find you pleasing to the eye, or you'll do something surprisingly clever, and I'll take pity on you and get you a new toy to try out. As for what it's exactly? You'll have to figure it out yourself. Instruction manual? Dream on. Surprises are what make things interesting, aren't they?"

Typical Stark style. Peter looked at the activated suit, then at the cold wristband on his wrist, and felt like he hadn't signed an internship contract, but a contract of servitude plus a blind box deal.

"Now, shall we try?" Tony gestured with his chin toward Peter.

Peter a deep breath, suppressing his excitement and trepidation, and reached out to press his hand on the battle suit on the platform.

The nanofibers sensed it instantly and quickly covered his arm like flowing water, spreading throughout his body. A few seconds later, a brand new, technologically advanced Spider-Man stood in front of Tony.

"It feels... amazing, Stark!" Peter's voice came through the mask, buzzing and filled with barely suppressed excitement.

He instinctively did a backflip, landing in Spider-Man's classic pose.

"Target calibration in progress... Mr. Parker, I suggest you relax your shoulders and engage your core muscles more evenly," Friday's voice gently reminded Peter.

At the same time, a deafening banging on the lab door and Deadpool's highly recognizable raspy voice suddenly came from outside:

"Tony! Open the door! I know you're giving your sweetheart special treatment in there! That's not fair! I want new gear too! I want pink! With little wings! Tony!!! Stop playing dead! Open the door!!!"

Tony rolled his eyes and said to Friday, "Level 1 Shizune shielding in the lab."

"Okay, Boss." Friday's words had barely left her lips when the noise outside the door vanished without a trace.

Tony then turned to Peter, looked him up and down, and nodded with satisfaction. "Alright, that's more like it. Remember me, this outfit is a tool, not a toy. Don't cause me trouble, don't die out there, and don't..."

He pointed to Peter's wrist. "Don't even think about sneaking off Friday or blocking the records. I've set it to maximum access; you can't handle it. Alright, get out of here. Happy will take you home. Starting tomorrow, your 'internship report' will be officially in effect." He waved his hand dismissively, like shooing away a fly.

Peter stumbled Earth Flow the lab, Deadpool's wailing muffled behind the heavy door.

He looked down at his brand-new, gleaming red and blue battle suit, the gentle guiding voice of Friday in his ear, and the cold "golden headband" on his wrist.

A brand new life has begun.

Exciting, cool, and comes with an AI that might score you at any time and an arrogant and irritable "mentor".

Peter a deep breath, feeling immense pressure, but even more so, an indescribable excitement at being recognized by his idol.

Just as he reached the lobby, his wristband vibrated slightly, and Friday's notification sound rang:

"Mr. Parker, Boss has just unlocked your first extra feature: Suit Self-Cleaning Mode. Note: 'So he won't come back with dirty clothes and contaminate my lab.' Keep it up."

Peter: "..." Okay, at least now I don't have to worry about doing laundry.

He carefully touched the cold, metallic spider emblem on his chest and began his journey home.

First day of internship, the evaluation system is loading. Tony Stark's big gift package is indeed not so easy to get.

Peter officially began his "Stark Industries intern" career, but this title was largely undeserved.

To put it bluntly, the Arbitrator Tower is his second training ground and babysitting center.

Friday's rating system is ever-present, and Tony's scathing critiques are occasionally delivered precisely through AI—"Parker, you need three Silk Modes to deal with a thug who snatches an old lady's purse? What a waste! Deduct points!"

However, Peter soon learned that he wasn't the only one enjoying this "honor."

Daredevil, Matt Murdock. This guardian of Hell's Kitchen is the first "unofficial" intern on the Arbitrators' list.

Matt was capable and determined, but when Tony initially offered him a full membership, Matt declined before even finishing reading the Braille document. "Thank you, Stark. But my battlefield is only the streets of New York. Saving the universe? That's not my job."

Tony rolled his eyes (though Matt couldn't see them): "Fine, stubborn vigilante. But," he tapped the table, "Intelligence sharing, equipment upgrades, and party tickets—you're getting all the perks. The Hell's Kitchen case is being prioritized, and Friday will be under close surveillance."

Thus, Matt became a street hero with top-level peripheral support, and his iconic dark red suit was upgraded with Stark Industries' Shizune fibers and impact-resistant lining, although he still preferred to use his guide cane.

Deadpool, Wade Wilson. This "stagnation" also shamelessly put his name on the intern list.

Chen Tian had mentioned it before. "Wade, you should go back."

Headpool like a rattle-drum, his Byakugan rolling dramatically on his mask. "Go back? No way! It's so much more fun here! Tony's rich, Captain America's handsome, Spider-Man's cute, and there's an unlimited supply of burritos! I'm applying for political asylum!"

Chen Tian couldn't do anything about him and could only let him be, but he privately discussed it with Tony: "Keep an eye on him. This guy is a chaotic variable. When he gets bored or causes a big mess, I'll send him 'back' to prepare."

Tony's response was to give Deadpool a basic Stark suit (a tacky pinkish-purple color with a pair of aerodynamically nonexistent miniature wings), which included an enhanced version of Friday's behavior recording and emergency braking protocol.

"Put it on, don't run around naked. Also, stay at least ten meters away from my lab, my interns, and everything of value in the building! Friday, designate him as a 'walking biohazard' and put him under close surveillance!"

Deadpool happily accepted it, Tenten he would wander around the building wearing that flashy pink armor, calling it "the intern's daily patrol."

Thus, the Arbitrator Tower's style became increasingly peculiar:

Peter screamed in frustration as he was being tormented by the AI in the training room, trying his best to score high in his daily 'just acts' to unlock new features for his suit.

In the quiet tactical intelligence room, Matt, wearing special headphones, "listened" to Hell's Kitchen crime hotspots selected by Friday, his fingers rapidly swiping across the Braille display.

Deadpool... might be trying to fry a steak with a laser cutter in the kitchen, or teasing Falcon with a shield like a frisbee in the gym, or pestering Chen Tian to ask, "Are there any group discounts on tickets back?"

Tony looked at Friday's "Intern Updates Briefing," rubbing his temples as he complained to Steve beside him, "A blind vigilante who refuses to be promoted, a neurotic chatterbox from another dimension, plus a Spider-Man who's easily fired up... Captain, I feel like I'm not training a successor, I'm running a super-brat daycare."

Steve watched the surveillance footage of Peter successfully executing a difficult tactical evasion maneuver, Matt accurately locating a drug den, and Deadpool being Spatial Confinement and frozen in place by Chen Tian, and smiled, "At least they're all doing the right thing, Tony. And it's quite lively, isn't it?"

Tony snorted, picked up his coffee, glanced at the "A-" rating Peter had just received on the screen, and gave a barely perceptible chuckle.

It's lively, but there's also a lot of trouble, but... life doesn't seem too bad.

He casually granted Peter access to a new module—"Web Bomb (Low Yield)"—with the note. "Trial version. Damage will be deducted from your internship salary."

In Brooklyn, Peter had just caught a petty bicycle thief in his web, suddenly felt a jolt in his wrist as he saw the new feature notification. Instantly, he was fully revitalized. "Yes! Long live Stark!"

Mark, dressed in a suit, was explaining the benefits of legal aid to a poor family.

Deadpool was still inside Chen Tian's Spatial Confinement, trying his best to gesture "another taco, please."

The daily life of Arbitrators intern is simple and unpretentious, yet "extraordinarily lively."

Time flies, and seemingly peaceful daily life is actually rife with undercurrents.

As the saying goes, if you don't look for trouble, trouble will find you.

In 2015-2016, according to the Marvel Cinematic Universe timeline, Ant-Man, Doctor Strange, and Spider-Man (the Spider-Man movie came out in 2017, but Spider-Man had already appeared in the 2016 film * Civil War *).

They all appeared during this period, and during this time, there was one person who had maintained a skeptical attitude throughout the previous Washington District battle.

Thor.

During his great battle with Zeus, when he was severely injured by Zeus and almost had his divine power stolen by Hades, his father, the Odin of Asgard, never appeared.

He kept this matter to himself until he discovered that Odin's daily behavior in Asgard was completely different from what Odin before. He was extravagant, pleasure-seeking, and even his attitude towards Loki was completely different.

Until, during a mission to Muspelheim, the Surtur, the Fire Giant succinctly revealed the answer to his doubts.

After defeating Surtur, he returned to Asgard. When he captured Loki, who was impersonating Odin, he learned from Loki that Odin was now in Midgard.

So Thor, with Loki by his side, embarked on a journey to find his 'father'.

Where is Odin?

In Norway, the cold sea wind, carrying a salty smell, lashes against the coastal cliffs.

Deep in the dense forest on the edge of a cliff, a Nordic-style wooden house stands.

The only source of warmth in the room was the fireplace, its leaping orange flames trying to dispel the damp chill typical of Scandinavia, casting huge, swaying shadows on the rough wooden walls.

Odin, the once Odin who once dominated the Nine Realms, was now curled up in a creaky old rocking chair.

A thick wool blanket wrapped around his hunched body, revealing only a face covered in deep wrinkles and showing signs of exhaustion.

His eyes were closed, and his chest rose and fell with his weak breaths, like an old bellows that was about to fall apart.

Before the fireplace, a towering figure, as imposing as a mountain, was silently busy at work.

Kratos had his gray beard trimmed short, and he wore simple dark linen clothing, revealing bulging muscles covered with old war marks.

He was methodically adding the chopped firewood to the fire, his movements steady and powerful, the crackling flames consuming the dry wood being his only response.

The creaking of the rocking chair stopped, Odin laboriously opened one of his cloudy eyes to look at the silent figure.

"Kratos, this is a good choice." The old man's voice was hoarse and dry, like sandpaper rubbing against wood. "Quiet enough, cold enough... and hard to find. Perfect for... waiting to die."

Kratos continued adding firewood without pausing for a moment, not even lifting an eyelid.

Silence is his most frequently used language.

Odin, seemingly uninterested in a response, continued with the characteristic rambling of an old man, "My foolish son... Thor. And Loki... that liar little rascal. They're probably searching the entire universe for me, aren't they? A bunch of blind men... blind to what's right under their noses..."

He emitted a series of weak, unintelligible breaths, like a cough that had been choked, or a self-deprecating laugh.

"Asgard... a glittering golden cage. I've sat there for millennia, enough is enough." He adjusted his posture with difficulty; the blanket slipped down slightly, revealing a withered, emaciated arm. "In my final days... it's better to be down-to-earth. Look at the waves, listen to the wind... far better than all that hypocritical flattery."

Kratos picked up a particularly thick piece of firewood, his calloused hands applying slight pressure.

"Snap!" The firewood broke in two with a crisp, clean sound.

He tossed the neatly cut pieces of firewood into the fireplace, and the flames shot upwards, illuminating his rock-hard profile.

Odin's cloudy gaze fell on Kratos's taut muscles and that iconic scar. "What's your physique made of? It seems indestructible, unlike mine... it'd fall apart in the wind..."

He coughed a few more times, catching his breath for a moment, "Ragnarok... ha... this old man... probably won't live to see that day. Fine... saves me from seeing all that awful stuff..."

Upon hearing "Ragnarok," Kratos's action of adding firewood paused for a fleeting moment.

But it was only for a moment. He silently picked up the next piece of wood.

The Kakkō danced in his eyes, revealing no emotion.

"The outside world... seems to be getting lively?" Odin seemed to suddenly remember something, his cloudy eyes gazing at the tightly closed wooden window, as if he could see through the wood to the distance. "The humans in Midgard... have come up with something new? What's it called... 'Arbitrators'? How interesting. Oh, I forgot, you have a companion who is also one of the Arbitrators, Chen Tian?"

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "My silly son... Thor... seems to enjoy hanging out with them? Good... better than him rusting away in the Golden Palace all day... that hammer... it's practically sprouting mushrooms..."

"Odin," Kratos suddenly spoke, "You talk too much."

"Hehe, I was almost dead. If I hadn't met you in this forest, I wouldn't have known there was such a perfect place for seclusion." Odin closed his eyes slightly, his body swaying with the rocking chair.

Kratos didn't say anything more. Instead, he stood up, walked to sit opposite Odin, and poured himself a glass of water.

"Kratos, can you do me a favor?" Odin sensed Kratos sitting down opposite him and opening his single eye again.

Kratos didn't say anything, but silently drank the water in his glass.

Odin continued, knowing Kratos was listening. "I am about to die, and once I die, my daughter will break free of her seal and return to the mortal realm. She is cruel and once dreamed of ruling the entire universe through death. I fear Thor and Loki are no match for her."

At this point, Odin stopped rocking in his chair, sat up straight, and said, "I hope you can look after Thor for me."

Kratos put down the cup, stood up, picked up the Leviathan Axe, and walked towards the door.

Kratos stopped before stepping out the door.

"Odin, you're worrying too much. The Arbitrators who are with Thor are not as weak as you think, especially Chen Tian."

He paused for a moment, then continued, "Perhaps, he already knew all along."

Odin chuckled upon hearing this. "Is that so? It seems I haven't been paying attention to Midgard for too long. So, does that mean that after the Ancient One and I are gone, Midgard will have new guardians?"

Kratos didn't speak, but instead closed the door, shutting out the cold wind.

Odin leaned back in his rocking chair. "Was I too stubborn?"

The crackling of the burning firewood in the fireplace drowned out Odin's murmurs; only his faint breathing answered the murmurs.

In Kamar-Taj, the air in the quiet room seemed frozen, sunlight streaming through the carved wooden windows and slanting across the cold bed.

Ancient One lay there, his large monk's robe revealing his emaciated frame, his skin clinging tightly to his bones, like a skeleton covered with a thin layer of skin.

Each breath was so faint that the rise and fall of his chest was barely visible, accompanied by a labored hissing sound.

Chen Tian stood by the bed, his face expressionless, but his eyes were deep.

Ancient One's eyes were bright, carrying a clear, amused smile as she looked at Chen Tian: "I'm leaving, Chen Tian." Her voice was as soft as a breeze rustling through paper, "In the next couple of days."

Chen Tian didn't say anything, but simply nodded slightly to indicate that he had heard.

"It's alright," the Ancient One continued, her tone surprisingly relaxed. "Everything that needed to be said has been said. The new 'Sorcerer Supreme,' Strange, has arrived."

A faint smile played on her lips, "His talent... is alright, just a bit too impatient. But that's alright, Wanda and Wang will teach him a lesson. They'll let him train step by step, he'll get all the beatings he deserves, but if he can endure it, the position will be his."

"As for Dormammu..." A hint of mockery flashed in the Ancient One's cloudy eyes, "That guy's been scared out of his wits by you, and he's hiding in the Dark Dimension pretending to be dead. As long as Strange doesn't do anything stupid and provoke him, he'll be fine for now."

She paused, then said with a hint of amusement, "However, without Dormammu as the ultimate examiner, I'm genuinely curious whether this kid can still unleash his potential and become the Sorcerer Supreme we need?"

She let out a soft sigh, a hint of relief in her voice. "Never mind, it's none of my business anymore. The future of Blue Planet is his test; whatever his answer, let him be."

Hanging above the bed was a simple calligraphy scroll, with the words "Heaven rewards diligence" written in a flamboyant style—it was something the Ancient One had casually written and hung up when Strange first arrived.

Chen Tian's gaze lingered on those four words for a moment before returning to Ancient One's face.

"Don't worry, he will become the Sorcerer Supreme. Even if he is the weakest Sorcerer Supreme in history, I can still protect the peace of this world."

After Ancient One chuckled softly, her eyes slowly closed, the smile seemingly frozen on her withered face, leaving only a faint trace of life.

The quiet room was now completely silent.

Chen Tian took one last look at that calm, almost solemn face, then turned and left the room.

Outside, the snow-capped mountains of Kamar-Taj were bathed in sunshine, but the cold wind still howled.

There's also a group of Kamar-Taj apprentices, as well as Wanda, Wong, and Strange.

They all looked at Chen Tian with concern.

Wanda stepped forward and hugged Chen Tian, whispering, "How is the Ancient One...?"

Chen Tian rubbed Wanda's head. "Yeah, she's about to die."

As soon as those words were spoken, everyone began to whisper among themselves.

Chen Tian frowned, snapped his the Snap, and a repulsive force descended from mid-air, silencing everyone's whispers.

"Shut up, Kamar-Taj won't be disrupted, the dimensions won't be disrupted. All you need to do is cultivate diligently, and ignore everything else."

No one dared to speak; they all knew of Chen Tian's domineering nature.

Seeing that no one dared to make a sound, Chen Tian dispersed the repulsive force, "Now, everyone leave here and go cultivate. The new Sorcerer Supreme will take office soon."

No one dared to utter a sound. As soon as the pressure was lifted, the apprentices scattered like birds and beasts, and the corridor was instantly cleared, leaving only Wong, Wanda, and Strange, who looked like he was wondering "Who am I? Where am I?" and also wanted to slip away.

"Strange, stay," Chen Tian said.

Strange froze in place, a sense of foreboding creeping over him.

He turned around stiffly. "Uh, Mr. Chen? Is there anything else?"

He glanced at the silent Wang and Wanda beside him, trying to find some clues on their faces. One of them had a serious expression like a stone statue, while the other had a complicated look in his eyes, but also a hint of resignation.

Chen Tian cut to the chase. "Listen, from now on, Wang and Wanda will be in charge of training you. Your task is to learn everything you need to learn at Kamar-Taj as quickly as possible and take over as the Sorcerer Supreme."

A thunderclap out of nowhere!

Strange's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, and his voice cracked. "What?! The Sorcerer Supreme?! Mr. Chen, are you sure you're not mistaken?"

He frantically raised his still slightly trembling hands. "I'm here to heal my hands! Heal them! And then go back to New York, back to my operating table! To be a doctor! A genius surgeon! Understand? Not some... Sorcerer Supreme!"

He felt dizzy.

Sorcerer Supreme? Guardian of Dimensions?

What does this have to do with Tiffin Strange?

His grand vision was to once again wield the scalpel and create medical miracles under the operating lights, rather than holding a massive magic book and risking his life against a bunch of energy orbs and Dimensional Demon God!

This job is too risky; medical insurance definitely won't cover it!

"I just want my hands fixed!" Strange said bitterly. "The Kamar-Taj spellbook is amazing, yes, but that's a means to an end! The goal is to get back to Sanctum Hospital and continue being Doctor Strange. Strange, not to stay here as some... Captain of Magical Security!"

He pointed to the tightly closed door of the meditation room, "Ancient One... she just... you can't just dump the burden on me like this! That's not scientific! That's not humane!"

Wang stood to the side, arms crossed, not even raising an eyebrow, with an expression that said, "Kid, I saw right through you." Wanda pursed her lips and looked away.

Chen Tian remained expressionless until Strange finished venting.

He stared sharply at Strange's fingers, which trembled more noticeably with excitement.

Your hand has been healed for a long time.

Chen Tian uttered a few words calmly.

Strange felt as if he had been choked, his voice suddenly cutting off. He instinctively retorted, "Cure? Not a chance! Look, they're still here..." His words trailed off.

He suddenly realized something, and abruptly looked down, staring intently at his hands, which had trembled violently due to the car accident.

That damned tremor that forced him to abandon all glory and future... subsided, like the receding tide.

Although his finger joints still bore the stiffness of the car accident and his strength was far from its peak, the uncontrollable tremors that had ruined his career had disappeared.

He tried to move his fingers, slowly, a little stiffly, but as steadily as when he held a scalpel in his prime.

When did this happen? Was it during the countless times he was whipped and dodged by the King's magical vines? Or was it when the energy surge from Wanda's Chaos Magic forced him to unleash his full potential?

Or... is it simply that immersing oneself in that vast knowledge of magic, with one's body being unknowingly nourished and repaired by magical power?

Strange stood frozen in place, his right hand unconsciously opening and closing repeatedly, feeling the long-lost signs of the precise control belonging to a top surgeon.

A profound sense of absurdity and a faint, indescribable mix of emotions surged within him.

Chen Tian's voice broke his daze, calmly saying:

"Magic healed your hand, Doctor Strange. Now, it's your turn to do something for magic. Deal?"

Strange opened his mouth, looking at his hands, which had regained their stability, then looked up at Chen Tian's uncompromising face, then at Wang beside him who looked like he'd just accepted his fate, and at Wanda whose eyes held a hint of sympathy and understanding...

The script in his mind about a "genius surgeon returning to his peak" shattered into pieces.

His lips twitched, and he finally managed to squeeze out only a dry, forced smile:

"This... this is not a fair trade at all!" Her voice still carried a hint of grievance, as if she had been forced into this situation by fate.

Wang rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, "Welcome to Kamar-Taj, Doctor Strange. There's no bargaining here."

Wanda gently patted Strange's arm without saying a word, but the meaning was clear: you'll get used to it.

Chen Tian ignored his complaints, only leaving behind the final words. "Tomorrow at five o'clock, Meditation Courtyard. Don't be late." After saying that, he turned and left.

In the corridor, only the newly minted apprentice of the Sorcerer Supreme, whose face clearly read "I haven't agreed yet!", and the two "coaches" who were about to have their hearts broken.

Wanda sighed, while Wang Ze clicked his tongue at Strange's expression, which looked as if he'd been robbed of an exorbitantly expensive health insurance policy.

Strange stood there, staring down at his "healed" hand, his feelings indescribably complex.

Magic gave him hope in his despair; now, is it going to take away his planned future as payment?

He felt like he had just completed a successful surgery, but then the patient (magic) turned around and stabbed him in the chest with a scalpel.

It seems there's no turning back for him to become the Sorcerer Supreme in the future.