Thank you, God-like Boss, for the King of Gifts!
Chapter 2 of the bonus chapter for the boss's gift
It's endless, it's truly endless.
The framework is complete.
Refinement requires consideration of both logic and quality.
It's so tough, I have to go back to work soon.
I'll upload the remaining three chapters later; I need to hurry up and eat before heading out. -0-
Strange followed Mordo and the King, running wildly along the stone corridor.
Mordo led the way, with the king close behind. A corner of the hem of his robe fluttered at the corner before disappearing from sight.
Strange stopped abruptly at the fork in the road, nearly crashing into the wall. To his left and right lay deep stone corridors, the torchlight flickering on the walls, casting long, short shadows. He gasped for breath, looking around, unsure which way to go. He wanted to call Mordo's name, but his lungs were still full of air.
A scream came from the left. He had never heard that sound before.
Strange's body sprang out before his brain could process the information; he rounded another corner and pushed open a half-closed wooden door.
He saw a person. A mage he had never seen before, dressed in a deep red robe, standing in the center of the room.
His hands drew a complex magic circle in the air, not with Lynn's fluid, almost casual style, but with a more brutal, sharper, and brute-force-like movement.
The magic circle exploded in his palm and slammed into the ground. A visible shockwave ripped away the stone slabs, sending rubble and dust flying like shrapnel. Strange didn't even have time to react before the shockwave sent him flying.
His back slammed heavily against the stone wall behind him, and excruciating pain spread from his spine to his limbs.
He heard himself groan, and then the world turned into a chaotic mess of colors followed by a ringing in his ears.
He opened his eyes after an unknown amount of time.
It was very quiet around us.
He was in an unfamiliar room, with an unfamiliar ceiling above him.
A dusty chandelier hung from the wooden beam, casting a dim and soft light.
His back was still throbbing, and there was a dull, aching pain where he had hit the back of his head.
He slowly sat up, supporting himself on the ground, and looked around. This was a place he had never seen before. Ancient scrolls and magical artifacts hung on the walls, and display cases held magical objects he did not recognize. An old and solemn atmosphere permeated the air.
The sandalwood, old books, and some kind of spice he couldn't name mingled together. He tried calling out, " Mordo? King?" No one answered. His voice echoed in the empty room for a long time before slowly fading away.
He stood up, his legs still a little weak, and stumbled down the stairs, supporting himself against the wall. Each step made the wooden floor creak.
Reaching the top of the stairs, he pushed open a heavy wooden door and stood in a spacious hall. Antique chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, and a spiral staircase wound its way up.
He stood outside the gate, looked at the address sign, and fell silent. 177A Bleecker Street.
He returned to the center of the hall and slowly walked around it.
This should be one of the three Sanctum.
He walked to the door and glanced out through the glass window.
It really was New York; the traffic, pedestrians, and distant skyscrapers were all familiar to him.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. Then he turned and went back into the hall, beginning his search of each room.
He pushed open every door he could on the first floor, then climbed back up the spiral staircase to the second floor, searching room by room.
There was no one there. The entire Sanctum was as quiet as if it had been abandoned.
He heard the sound when he returned to the hall.
It was an unfamiliar male voice, deep and hoarse, with a kind of almost fanatical calmness.
Strange tiptoed closer to the source of the sound, staying close to the wall.
He hid behind a thick stone pillar, peeking out half his head.
A middle-aged man he had never seen before stood in the center of the hall, wearing a dark robe with dark red patterns embroidered along the edges. One hand was behind his back, while the other hovered in mid-air, a twisted energy gathering at his fingertips.
At his feet, a man dressed in the robes of Sanctum guardian was struggling to stand up, his clothes soaked with blood.
"I told you, you would die protecting the Sanctum," the standing man said, his voice carrying a condescending pity.
Daniel coughed up blood and looked up at the person in front of him.
His voice was hoarse and weak, " Kaecilius, you were once one of us. You once protected this world."
Kaecilius did not answer.
He simply looked down at Daniel, his eyes showing no emotion.
There was no anger, no pity. He raised his hand, and the energy in his palm appeared even sharper.
Strange burst out from behind the pillar. "Stop!" His voice boomed through the hall, startling even himself.
Kaecilius slowly turned his head to look at the stranger who rushed out from behind the stone pillar.
"How long have you been in Kamar-Taj? What's your name?" Kaecilius asked, his tone devoid of surprise or wariness, only displaying a casual curiosity, as if examining a specimen he had never seen before.
" Doctor Strange." (I really don't know how to translate this; Doctor, Ph. D... whatever...)
Kaecilius looked at him, a mocking smile playing on his lips. That smile was utterly devoid of warmth.
"Whatever, we won't need to call you that anymore anyway."
Before Strange could react, Kaecilius had already moved. He stood on the wall as if gravity didn't exist, and with two of his men also standing on the wall, they pounced on Strange on the second floor from different directions at the same time.
On the same floor, deep in the shadows, Lynn leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. A thin, mirrored barrier floated in front of him and the Ancient One, completely obscuring their presence, voices, and figures.
He could hear the sounds of fighting downstairs, the whooshing sound of Strange hastily releasing runes, the footsteps of Kaecilius's two followers charging across the walls, and Daniel's faint, intermittent breathing.
"How did you convince Daniel Drum to act in this play with Kaecilius?"
Lynn's gaze remained fixed on the battlefield downstairs.
Strange had to experience it for himself.
Otherwise, he will never truly understand what it means to say, " The Sanctum protects the world, and we protect the Sanctum."
The Ancient One stood beside him, her hands clasped in front of her, her gaze calmly fixed on the ground below. She said, "I didn't convince him. I only gave him a life-saving artifact, enough to keep him alive. His injuries, his suffering... they were all real."
Lynn was silent for a moment, then clicked his tongue softly. "How ruthless."