Young Writers Society

Wong stepped through into another dimension, and stole a quick look around the library while his body shuddered from another jump. He took that moment to grab a seat and recover his stamina.

Nothing seemed too terribly off in this dimension, unlike some he had jumped through. There were a few alternate universes that had the library as barely recognizable, and one or two that were too dangerous for Wong to traverse more than a few mere moments. So was his life while he attempted to find Doctor Strange. Wong was certain that his friend and student-turned-mentor was the only one with the knowledge and the willingness to experiment to solve such a problem involving Infinity Stones.

He glanced at his arm. The magic seemed to have slowed, but it had done enough to render much of his hand paralyzed. With a small flourish, he reinforced the mystical barrier encasing the infection.

Through his jumps, he had time to ponder over his predicament. He would call... whatever was turning him into ash, to put it bluntly, an infection, but in reality he had absolutely no clue what this was. Human scientists would look at this and scratch their heads, before chalking it up to some kind of virus or parasitic body. It didn't seem to just be consuming him; it acted with some sort of sentience. If this situation was different, perhaps, Wong would have been interested in figuring out as much about this that he could. If he wasn't diving headlong into his own mortality.

All right, Wong lectured himself, no more sitting around.

He forced himself up with a muffled groan. Wong was not one to complain about trivial things like exhaustion or pain, but his body had a threshold, and it was screaming its discontent at nearing its limit.

Wong summoned a scrying spell in the air in front of him. The orange orb hovered silently, wobbling gently to the breeze in the library. He scrawled out Doctor Strange in the space around him. His dominant hand was the afflicted one, so the letters were barely distinguishable at best. However, it wasn't the letters that mattered. Frankly, he could have spoke Strange's name aloud if he so wished to and the spell would have worked the same. However, in spending the time needed to etch out the name, the spell carried more weight with it. The letters focused it for him, honing in on Wong's intentions with enough precision to be second only to reading his thoughts.

The orb flashed red. So, Strange didn't exist in this dimension. Perhaps he hadn't been born yet, or had died in the car accident that had ended his medical career and brought him to Kamar-Taj to begin with. For good measure, Wong scratched out his name again. Another flash of crimson. He had to be quick, but he couldn't afford to be careless about his searching. Magic was like anything; it was susceptible to human imperfections.

No matter. He would just go to another dimension.

He waved away the scrying spell and steeled himself for another slip between universes.

"What exactly are you doing in here, Master Wong?" A familiar voice questioned behind him. Despite himself, Wong felt a small smile creep onto his lips.

He let out a faint cough and turned around. The Ancient One raised her eyebrows as her eyes immediately focused on his arm. He allowed her a moment to absorb the information he presented to her openly. "And, exactly how many dimensions brought you to mine, Master Wong?"

Fifty-seven. "Too many, Ancient One." He sighed, blowing out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "I am glad to hear your voice."

"Indeed. However, I'm not the one you're searching for, am I?"

"Unfortunately, not. I must take my leave now. I'm sure you have many questions, Master. If this were a different place and time, I would be more than willing to answer them." He turned away from here and drew in a deep breath. Long ago, he had wondered why so many Masters of the Mystic Arts were so deadened to emotions. He had to learn that lesson early on, but there were still times where his humanity still seeped out. But, not now, not here. He had a mission. He had a mission.

He wondered how many times he would tell that to himself before he he started believing it again. He fashioned another dimensional rift. At this point, it was almost effortless.

"Of course, Master Wong. I, too, am sure that you have many questions that Master Strange and I would be more than willing to contemplate an answer with you."

Wong halted, his hand inches from the portal. "But, Strange doesn't exist in this reality... How did you--"

"I often think better with a cup of tea," The Ancient One said with a soft smile and left the library, not waiting to see whether Wong followed or not; they both knew he would.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

They were now in the lounge room in the sanctuary in Kamar-Taj. Wong sat on a cushion in one corner of the room, eying The Ancient One as she moved around the room. She stood nearby with a small teacup in her hand, her eyes closed.

Wong shuffled on the cushion. It didn't really offer protection from the bare floor underneath, and was highly uncomfortable to sit on. He could never imagine sitting on one for long periods.

He moved positions, but realized it was incredibly difficult to maneuver with only one working hand. He didn't realize he was cradling the now limp arm until his attention was focused on getting comfortable. Such a trivial matter, comfortability, when the fate of his universe is in question.

The silence sustained between them, hanging between them and stifling Wong's attempts at asking questions. When she was alive in his universe, he never did quite figure out how to communicate effectively with her. She was always polite, of course, but she had an... intensity to her that halted every intent Wong had to talk to her, before and now.

Finally, he managed out a cough. For some reason, acting like the conversation had already started was a reliable last resort. He bit out a fragment of a word before the kettle conveniently whistled its readiness.

"I admit I can never truly ponder things well without a cup of tea. There is something quite... calming about it."

"Of course, Ancient One, but I have to be honest. Time is of the utmost importance--"

The Ancient One filled his able hand with a cup and the nostalgic aroma of her special tea filled his nostrils. "Time is certainly no one's ally, Master Wong. However, if you followed your impatience truly, you would still be on your search through the dimensions. Have I not, then, save you time for a cup of tea?" She asked before hiding a small smile with a sip of tea.

"Yes, but any time I can spare is time I need spared." Wong sipped the tea. There was nothing truly amazing about it, but only The Ancient One would make tea at Kamar-Taj. When Doctor Strange eventually took her spot as Sorcerer Supreme and the guardian of Earth, he had far too much on his plate to offer the same hospitality that The Ancient One used to. He focused more on his relationships with other defense systems and groups while also expanding his database of potential threats against Earth. How ironic it was, then, that he could not stop the one enemy who could deal the most damage to his home world because of the one rule that doomed them...

Wong cleared his head. "I would love to tell you everything and fill you in on all the details, Ancient One, but my priority is Doctor Strange. Maybe you two together could figure out a solution to my predicament."

The Ancient One nodded her head. Slipping on a sling ring, she rotated her hand in a circle and a portal fashioned itself to her hand movements in the space in front of her. She pivoted to Wong and ushered through the portal without a word.

Suddenly, with his goal in reach, Wong's mind drew a blank on what to say, what to do when he actually met with Strange. The Ancient One stared at him with a collected calmness on her face. It was a posture that only she could pull off whilst not being rude. Wong set the teacup on the floor beside him and struggled to his feet. He really shouldn't have sat down with his limp arm.

"Are you stalling, Master Wong?" The Ancient One asked with a knowing smirk.

"Possibly," Wong conceded. "And before you make a time remark, Ancient One..."

"I scoff at that notion, Master Wong. Truly, you hurt me."

Wong blew out a breath and stepped through the portal. What was once the sanctuary morphed into a dark, barren terrain with crimson soot and ash covering all the the eye could see. Red land met with a red sky and painted the place with an unnerving tone that set Wong on edge. A figure stood in the distance, not too far from them. Still, the cloak was unmistakeable.

As the two ventured closer, the figure turned to them. Despite himself, Wong let a slight gasp slip.

"Strange."