The Ancient One was in a bind.
According to the original script, Kaecilius should have stabbed her through the chest today. The wound would prove fatal, and before she died, she would pass the mantle of Sorcerer Supreme to Stephen Strange, make a graceful exit, and go serve Eternity in peace.
But although the wound beneath her ribs looked frightening, and dark-purple energy was still coursing through her meridians, she was nowhere near death.
Anyone could see that the Sorcerer Supreme had plenty of life left in her.
She couldn't keep up the act.
The five women from The Boys had saved her too quickly.
She glanced at Stephen, who stood beside the portal. The kid was staring at Daisy's back with utter adoration, his lips parted and his Adam's apple bobbing. He looked as though a magnet had caught him.
A moment later, his head whipped around again.
He stared at the dark-red Chaos Magic gathered at Wanda's fingertips, then at the blue-white lightning playing across the Square Hammer in Natasha's hand, then at the golden Lasso of Truth at Diana's waist, and finally at the rapidly spinning vortex of water in Mera's palm.
The Ancient One: "..."
Her temples throbbed twice.
The scheme she had spent so many years arranging—the legacy of Kamar-Taj, the mantle of Sorcerer Supreme, her plan to train the greatest mage of all time—had been dismantled by five beautiful women in three minutes.
If Stephen started running with them, forget becoming Sorcerer Supreme. He might not even be able to hold a sling ring steady.
The Ancient One's face tightened with conflict. She opened her mouth, hoping to say something that might salvage the situation, but the words stuck. What could she say?
Stephen, stay away from them. They'll lead you astray?
Even to