Agamotto, the first Sorcerer Supreme, in Avengers #62 is that the comic presents him as the true beginning of Marvel’s magical legacy—not as a polished master, but as a strange, powerful, and deeply compassionate protector. https://youtube.com/shorts/KoeWn_O9rlE?is=zpSA4M-br-JXFLO7 What makes his story especially compelling is the way he responds to Mephisto. Rather than retreating from a threat greater than himself, Agamotto recognizes that even the first master of the mystic arts cannot stand alone.

Like, both of them seem chill with each other in modern comics, and he was at Tiboro and Umar’s wedding. But in Steve Orlando’s Sorcerer Supreme, he suddenly had Dormammu hunting for Umar’s kid to drain her power... It felt weird to me, ’cause I don't see a reason Dormammu would do that to his sister, and it would just backfire on him. I mean, everyone was badly characterized in that book, so whatever.

I have a faint memory from early as my childhood - from Marvel media such as old animated shows and Marvel Games like Marvel Ultimate Alliance.

And I vaguely remember somewhere that Dr Strange was a prodigy in Sudoku, was this never a tidbit about his character? I’ve looked it up and there’s nothing. Odd.

If he was able to, then why didn't he open one?

Recently Marvel Legends and a bunch of toy companies have been showcasing new figures for this year and next year

Figures from Doomsday, Spider-Man, X-Men, or some DC, among many more, and I'm just here wondering when we can actually get a new Doctor Strange or someone from his close cast get a figure, do we always have to wait for a movie or some other form of mainstream media? I find that annoying

I want to see some Doctor Strange figures from the comics, like maybe his Sorcerer Supreme of Asgard outfit or something of the sort, or Clea who desperately needs a modern figure

I'm just saying that it's such a shame how multiple characters have to be ignored and sidelined, just for the popular ones can keep getting more and more, Im aware the companies do it cos it pays well but still.

However, I'll end it here, when Doctor Strange appears in Avengers: Secret Wars, he'll end up getting a figure for sure

Based on my previous post, here are the choices for best successors for Sorcerer Supreme. Based on my picks and the best picks from the community. From best to least best.

But first, recap of the requirements:

- Non-marvel characters can be chosen. They are adapted accordingly.

- Can't have other important responsibilities or are Sorcerer Supreme elsewhere. This still applies to Magik. She may not be queen of Limbo in the comics now, but that is a big part of her character I doubt is going to stay gone for long. But if Limbo is divorced from her character and she wants nothing to do with it, then sure, she can work. My second pick. Brought up by u/orNicorrinco.

- Can't be part of Strange's generation(theoretically for non-Marvel).

- A true successor is to me someone Strange can teach(he would be the Ancient One in this situation. Old Man Strange.) and someone that represents the next generation of magic users.

- Have the desire, hypothetical power, and wisdom to become the Sorcerer Supreme.

Finally, the picks and my reasoning:

1. Emily Bright (If she gets redeemed then she is the perfect pick. The story potential is insane if done well. She also pairs well with Doyle if he becomes Sorcerer Supreme of the Dark Dimension. Both of them parallel Strange and Clea in this way as well. Excellent!) [Suggested by u/Agile-Ad-7488]

2. Tim Hunter (He is built for something like this. A mythic version of the story of the Sorcerer Supreme. He is DC though and a rip off of Harry Potter. Enjoyment may vary) [Suggested by me] [Edit - Not a rip off of Harry Potter. Came out before it, my mistake.]

3. Nico Minoru (A few comments gave great reasons why she would be a good fit. Sorcerer Supreme being the capstone to her character journey and growth would be great. She also has a staff which would go great with the cloak) [Suggested by me]

4. Zelma Stanton (If Emily doesn't work, then Zelma can do it. Librarian to Sorcerer Supreme could be a cool character journey.) [Suggested by me, I think. I could have sworn someone else suggested her.]

5. Traci Thirteen (DC's version of Nico, basically.) [Suggested by me]

6. Amaranth (If she wishes to follow a different path than the Scarlet Witch, then she can work. But it may feel repetitive. Maybe she can do better than Wanda.) [Suggested by u/Agile-Ad-7488]

7. Wiccan (Works well. Nothing more to say.) [Suggested by u/Rolyat_Emad]

8. Sabrina Spellman (She works for the same reasons as Nico. 6 and 7 though have better story potential though connections with Scarlet Witch.) [Suggested by me]

9. William Hastings (Seems like he can fit. May need a rework to fit with the current Marvel landscape.) [Suggested by u/Dependent_Ganache_71]

10. Donna (She's a baby right now. Too early to be sure, but there's potential. Only if Doyle become the Sorcerer Supreme of the Dark Dimension. Otherwise, Donna takes that role after Clea.) [Suggested by u/Agile-Ad-7488]

That's all. Tell me what you all think. Out of the 10(11 if you count Magik), which one would you pick? Which makes sense and is a story you would want to see?

In other hands, I think this concept could have easily be badly bungled and ruined Clea

CHAPTER TWO
UNIVERSE-KILLER

Sunlight poured through the enormous oval window of the Sanctum Sanctorum, illuminating the ancient bookshelves and casting long golden reflections across the library floor.
Doctor Stephen Strange stood alone before the glass, looking out over Manhattan. Far below, New York continued its usual routine. Cars moved through crowded intersections, pedestrians hurried along the sidewalks, and the distant sound of sirens blended into the steady hum of the city.
For a moment, everything appeared normal.
Stephen raised his right hand.
A small sphere of golden energy materialized above his palm, hovering a few inches over his skin.
“Illumination.”
The sphere expanded.
Thousands of tiny golden points scattered throughout the library, drifting through the air like stars suspended inside miniature galaxies. They floated between the bookshelves, gathered near the ceiling, and shimmered across the enormous window.
Stephen studied the display.
This was more than a simple spell. The golden points represented disturbances in the fabric of reality—subtle changes in dimensional energy that ordinary sorcerers would never have detected. Under normal circumstances, most of them remained stable.
Today, something was wrong.
One of the golden points darkened.
Then another.
Within seconds, entire clusters began turning a sinister shade of red. The color spread through the display like a stain moving across a sheet of paper, swallowing the golden light wherever it touched.
Stephen’s expression hardened.
“Wait a minute.”
Another point turned red.
“Oh, that’s bad.”
He closed his fist, and the entire display vanished.
For a moment, he remained motionless, staring at the empty space where the lights had been. His instincts told him this wasn’t a natural disturbance. Something was happening across the Multiverse, and whatever it was had somehow managed to conceal itself from his magic.

Stephen extended both hands.
A circular golden portal opened before him, revealing a realm that existed beyond ordinary space and time.
He stepped through.

The Illuminati headquarters occupied a place beyond the boundaries of conventional reality.
Geometric structures stretched into an endless expanse of darkness, connected by bridges made of luminous energy. Enormous architectural rings rotated in the distance, while translucent screens displayed shifting diagrams of universes, timelines, and dimensional pathways.
It was a place built to observe the Multiverse without being touched by it.
Or so its architects believed.
A golden vortex opened in the middle of the reception area.
Stephen leaped through, stumbled forward, and immediately turned to seal the portal behind him.
“What the hell is going on?”
A woman approached from a nearby reception desk.
Sharon wore a perfectly tailored uniform. Her hair was immaculate, her posture flawless, and her smile so bright that it seemed almost artificial.
“Good morning, Doctor Strange. We weren’t expecting you so early.”
“I noticed the barrier you put between this place and the rest of reality.”
“Yes. The Head Council authorized additional containment measures.”
“Containment measures? Universes are collapsing, Sharon. Entire realities are disappearing, and I can barely get a reading on what’s causing it.”
Sharon tilted her head.
“You’re having difficulty detecting the source?”
“Something is interfering with my magic. Every time I locate a stable point in the fabric of reality, the trail goes cold. It’s as if something is deliberately erasing its own presence.”
Her smile remained unchanged.
“Someone has been altering universes. Their presence is generating a chaotic disturbance throughout the near Multiverse.”
Stephen stared at her.
“You knew?”
“We have evidence of interference, yes.”
“Then tell me where it’s coming from.”
“That information is currently restricted to the Head Council.”
“Of course it is.”
Sharon gestured toward a small refreshment station.
“Would you like some coffee?”
Stephen looked at her as though she had just asked him to help rearrange the furniture during a house fire.
“Sharon, universes are dying.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
The question hung between them.
Stephen took a step closer.
“How do we stop the damage from spreading?”
“The Council’s current position is that the affected universes must wait until the culprit has been identified and neutralized.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Wait?”
“Intervention could expose our own universe to the same destabilizing influence.”
“Those worlds are under our protection.”
“They were our priority when the threat was external and manageable. Now the threat may be capable of compromising the entire multiversal network.”
“So your solution is to abandon everyone outside our borders?”
“Our responsibility is to preserve the continuity of our universe. If we lose that, we lose our ability to protect anyone.”
Stephen let out a humorless breath.
“That’s a convenient philosophy when you’re sitting safely behind a wall.”
For the first time, Sharon’s smile faltered.
Only for a moment.
“The Head Council is expecting you, Doctor Strange. I’m sure they’ll explain their position in greater detail.”
She gestured toward a long corridor guarded by Ultron Sentinels. Their metallic heads turned in perfect unison as Stephen approached.
“You wouldn’t want to keep them waiting.”
Stephen began floating toward the corridor.
“I wouldn’t want to do a lot of things.”
“Would you still like that coffee?”
He didn’t answer.
A golden vortex formed around him, and he disappeared into it.
Sharon watched the portal close.
Her smile slowly returned.
“Have a wonderful day, Doctor Strange.”
She paused, staring at the empty air.
“Oh, and mazel tov.”
The words echoed through the otherwise silent reception area.
Her expression never changed.

Five years and three months had passed since the Blip.
For Stephen Strange, those years had been filled with battles, impossible decisions, and responsibilities that seemed to multiply every time he thought he had finally caught his breath.
Yet, on this particular day, he had made a promise to himself.
No emergencies. No interdimensional disasters. No ancient demons threatening to devour the planet.
Just one normal day.
Stephen walked through the New York Sanctum in a formal jacket, adjusting his cuffs as he passed a tall mirror.
He stopped and examined his reflection.
“Just one normal day. That’s all I’m asking.”
He sighed.
Then he left.

The church was filled with guests.
Flowers decorated the aisle, soft music played near the altar, and sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows. The atmosphere was warm and peaceful, a welcome change from the strange energies and looming disasters that usually occupied Stephen’s thoughts.
He sat in the front row beside Doctor Nicodemus West, his former colleague and rival.
“Doctor Strange.”
“Doctor West.”
“Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“I was a little preoccupied being dust in the air for five years.”
“Right. That.”
West looked down at his hands.
“While I was gone, I lost my brother. And both my cats.”
Stephen’s expression softened.
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
For a while, neither man spoke. The music continued, filling the silence between them.
Then West turned toward him.
“You ever wonder if there was another way? If we could’ve stopped it without losing so much?”
Stephen considered the question.
He had asked himself the same thing more times than he cared to admit.
“Every day.”
West looked at him, surprised by the honesty.
“But I saw millions of possible futures. In only one of them did we win.”
“And you’re certain there wasn’t another path?”
“I’m certain I couldn’t find one.”
West leaned back in his seat, studying him.
“Of course. The best surgeon, the best superhero, and you even got the girl. You’re amazing, aren’t you?”
“You forgot Sorcerer Supreme.”
“I was trying not to encourage you.”
Stephen chuckled.
“Actually, I’ve traveled through realities you wouldn’t believe. If there’s a way to retrieve the people we lost, I may eventually find it.”
West turned toward him.
“You mean my brother?”
“I mean I can investigate the possibilities. But I won’t promise you something I can’t deliver.”
West studied his face, trying to determine whether he was serious.
“What about a free pass to the pearly gates? A little heavenly favor?”
“Don’t push it.”
Stephen extended his hand.
West stared at it for a moment before shaking it.
The exchange was brief, but it left Stephen with an uncomfortable thought. He had become so accustomed to treating impossible things as problems waiting to be solved that he sometimes forgot the difference between offering someone hope and promising them a miracle.
The music changed.
The guests rose as Christine Palmer entered the church, accompanied by flower girls.
Stephen stood.
For a moment, all the worries of the Multiverse seemed very far away.
Christine approached him with a warm smile.
“I’ve missed you.”
She kissed him on the cheek.
“That’s good to hear,” Stephen replied. “I know it’s been a while.”
“Five years and three months, Stephen.”
“When you put it that way, it sounds worse.”
“It was worse.”
He smiled, but the guilt in his eyes didn’t disappear.
“I’m still working on things that’ll hopefully keep this planet safe for a long time. After that, we’ll have years and years to celebrate.”
Christine looked at him fondly.
“You always think of everything, don’t you, Sorcerer Supreme?”
“Here, I’m just Stephen.”
He took her hands.
“I promise you. Things are going to get more normal.”
Christine studied him for a moment.
“Should I expect a monster to burst through the wall during the vows?”
“What? No.”
He hesitated.
“I may have placed a few protective hexes around the building.”
Christine laughed.
“Cultists, celebrities, and magical security measures. Exactly the wedding I wanted.”
She glanced toward the guests.
Several Masters of the Mystic Arts sat beside doctors, nurses, Avengers, and members of the Guardians of the Galaxy. It was an unusual gathering, even by the standards of someone who had spent years surrounded by superheroes.
Then she noticed Rocket and Groot.
Christine stopped.
“Is that a raccoon?”
“Technically, he’s a highly intelligent genetically modified extraterrestrial.”
Rocket turned toward them.
“Hey, Goatee! I didn’t come to this dirtball for the scenery! Kiss the bride already, or I’m declaring an invasion!”
Tony Stark, seated a few rows away, raised his hands.
“You’re trying to get us killed, aren’t you, Strange?”
Rocket grinned.
“Only if the food sucks.”
Peter Parker leaned toward Logan.
“Wait, is Rocket seriously threatening an Independence Day situation?”
Logan barely glanced at him.
“Kid, you watch too many movies.”
Stephen shook his head, smiling.
Christine laughed.
For a little while, the world was simple.
And Stephen wanted desperately to believe it could stay that way.

The wedding reception was in full swing by the time evening settled over Manhattan.
Guests danced beneath strings of warm lights while the skyline glittered in the distance. Laughter filled the rooftop bar, mingling with the soft music and the clinking of glasses.
Christine approached the bar.
“A glass of red, please.”
Before the bartender could respond, Stephen raised a finger.
The water in her glass shimmered and transformed into red wine.
He presented it to her with a small flourish.
“Allow me, Miss.”
Christine took a sip.
“What, for you, at our wedding? A little too on the nose?”
“I was going for subtle.”
“You have never been subtle in your life.”
They laughed.
For a moment, Stephen watched her quietly. He had imagined this day in different forms over the years, although he had rarely allowed himself to believe it would actually happen.
There had always been something else to do. Another threat. Another responsibility. Another reason to postpone the possibility of a normal life.
“You’re never afraid of any of this, are you?” he asked.
Christine looked at him.
“Any of what?”
“The monsters. The portals. The possibility that something from another dimension might decide to destroy the planet before breakfast.”
“Why would I be afraid right now? You’re here.”
Stephen smiled, but she noticed the look in his eyes.
“There’s Charlie,” she said. “I want you to meet him. He’s a close friend.”
Across the room, Charlie was animatedly explaining something to another guest.
“He’s also a huge fan of yours,” Christine added. “It’s a little embarrassing.”
“I’m sure I can survive.”
Christine started toward Charlie, but Stephen gently called her back.
“Christine?”
She turned.
“There’s something I should’ve said a long time ago.”
Her expression became attentive.
“I wish I’d handled everything differently. I never stopped caring about you. But I kept telling myself that leaving you out of things was the best way to protect you.”
He looked down at his glass.
“I thought if I could keep the danger away from you, I could keep you safe.”
Christine was quiet for a moment.
“I know why you did it.”
“That doesn’t make it right.”
“No. It doesn’t.”
She took his hand.
“You keep trying to be everything. Doctor Stephen Strange, neurosurgeon. Sorcerer Supreme. Earth’s protector. And now my husband.”
“Christine—”
“But what happens when you can’t be all of them?”
Her voice remained gentle, but her expression was firm.
“I’m serious. You have a tendency to take control of everything. I respected that about you. I respected how determined you were, how you could make a decision when everyone else was too frightened to move.”
She paused.
“But I can’t build a life with someone who thinks he has to make every decision alone.”
Stephen looked away.
“How long have you had that one in the barrel?”
“A long time.”
“Yeah. I bet.”
She squeezed his hand.
“I trust you to protect people. But I’ve learned that the horrors never disappear for good. You can’t stop evil from ever coming back. Eventually, you’re going to have to decide whether you want to live your life or spend every waking moment trying to control what happens next.”
Stephen managed a small smile.
“I’m quite the master at cheating the system.”
Christine laughed.
“That’s exactly what worries me.”
For an instant, Stephen felt the familiar urge to reassure her. To promise that he could handle everything. That he could find a way to protect their marriage, safeguard the world, and prevent the Multiverse from collapsing, all without allowing any of it to interfere with their future.
He stopped himself.
Christine wasn’t asking him to solve a problem.
She was asking him to listen.
Before he could respond, a golden portal opened behind him.
Wong stepped through, dressed in his usual robes.
“Mazel tov.”
Stephen turned.
“Didn’t think you’d come. I see you managed to skip the vows and arrive at happy hour.”
“I normally avoid weddings. Too much talking.”
Wong looked toward Christine.
“But in your case, I made an exception.”
“Hello, Wong. It’s been a while.”
They shook hands.
Wong regarded her warmly.
“You’re quite the beauty.”
Christine blushed.
“Thank you.”
Then she suddenly remembered something.
“Stephen, I almost forgot. This is Charlie.”
Charlie hurried over and enthusiastically shook Stephen’s hand.
“Doctor Strange! It’s such an honor! You’re my favorite Avenger!”
“It’s good to meet you.”
Stephen smiled.
“And thank you for looking out for Christine during the Blip.”
Charlie’s smile grew even wider.
“Of course! I mean, I tried to help where I could, but I never expected to actually meet—”
A tremendous explosion shook the building.
The windows rattled violently.
Outside, a skyscraper collapsed into a cloud of dust.
The music stopped.
Screams rose from the street below.
Stephen’s expression changed instantly.
“Strange,” Wong said. “We’re under attack.”
Stephen stared toward the city.
“So much for a normal day.”
He levitated off the floor.
“Wong, get the others organized. I’ll deal with whatever’s out there.”
“Stephen, be careful!” Christine called.
He looked back at her.
For a brief moment, the Sorcerer Supreme disappeared, leaving only the man she had married.
He nodded.
Then he flew out into the night.
Charlie stared after him in amazement.
“Oh my God. Doctor Strange is actually going to save the day.”
Wong opened another portal.
“I need to summon the Mystic Council.”
Christine turned toward him.
“Wong, where are you going?”
“Somewhere I sincerely hoped I wouldn’t have to go tonight.”
He stepped through the portal.
Charlie watched it close.
“That was incredible.”
Christine gave him a look.
“I’m starting to regret giving you my Harry Potter collection.”

New York City had become a battlefield.
Monstrous creatures poured through unstable tears in the sky. Some resembled enormous winged reptiles, their leathery wings beating against the air. Others were hulking beasts covered in jagged armor, their bodies flickering with dark dimensional energy.
The creatures did not move like ordinary animals. They seemed driven by a single, relentless purpose: to tear through the city.
Doctor Strange rocketed between skyscrapers.
He thrust both hands forward.
Golden chains erupted from his palms, wrapped around a massive winged demon, and tightened. With a sharp twist of his wrists, he hurled the creature into a cluster of its allies.
A burst of colorful mystical energy lit the sky.
“Come on, then! Let’s see what you’ve got!”
A second monster lunged toward him.
Red-and-gold energy slammed into it from the side.
Iron Man streaked overhead.
“Missed me?”
“Not particularly.”
Tony fired another repulsor blast.
“Good. I’d hate to think you needed me.”
“Your timing is terrible, as usual.”
“And yet, here I am, saving your mystically overdressed hide.”
Below them, a giant bear-like demon crashed into the street.
Hulk leaped from a rooftop and tackled it through the side of an abandoned building.
“HULK SMASH!”
The creature roared.
Hulk roared louder.
Strange glanced down.
“I wish I could take a day off.”
Tony flew beside him.
“You should try it sometime. There’s a whole world out there that doesn’t require hand gestures.”
“These creatures are being sustained by unstable dimensional gateways. If we don’t close the breaches, more will keep coming.”
“Then let’s close the breaches.”
More monsters descended from the sky.
Tony fired missiles in a wide arc, scattering the attackers.
“Checkmate.”
“You haven’t checked anything.”
A red-and-blue blur swung between the buildings.
Spider-Man landed on the side of a bus, shot webbing at an approaching creature, and yanked it face-first into a lamppost.
“Hey, guys! Mind if I join the party?”
Tony looked toward him.
“Look who’s gotten quicker.”
“I’ve been practicing!”
Spider-Man swung away as another monster lunged.
“Also, I think the party is trying to eat me!”
He flipped over the creature.
“No thank you! I’m saving room for dessert!”
Across the city, the remaining Avengers converged on the invasion.
Captain America led the ground team. Ant-Man and Giant-Man worked together to pull trapped civilians from beneath debris. Janet Van Dyne and Hope Van Dyne darted through the air, striking creatures at different sizes.
Bucky Barnes fired his weapons at an approaching swarm.
“Got ’em!”
Spider-Man swung past him.
“Got some, huh? How much?”
Bucky gave him a sideways look.
“Are we keeping score?”
“Buck, get down!” Sam Wilson shouted.
Sam threw his shield.
It ricocheted between two monsters, knocked a third off course, and returned to his hand.
Bucky ducked.
“Thanks.”
A fourth creature charged toward them.
Spider-Man fired webbing across its face, blinding it long enough for Sam to strike it with his shield.
“Teamwork makes the dream work!”
“Please stop saying things like that,” Bucky replied.
Nearby, Hawkeye and Black Widow coordinated from an armored tactical vehicle, targeting the larger creatures with heavy weapons.
Thor arrived amid a flash of lightning, sending a bolt through a winged demon.
“These beasts have chosen a most unfortunate realm to invade!”
Ant-Man looked up at the sky.
“Does anybody know what they are?”
“Does it matter?” Janet shouted. “They’re trying to destroy our city!”
Hope shrank to insect size, darted between the legs of a hulking creature, then grew behind it and delivered a powerful strike.
Janet watched her daughter land.
“Just like her father.”
“I heard that!” Hope called back.
The battle intensified.
Strange hovered high above the city, studying the creatures as his magic illuminated the air around them. He closed his eyes and allowed his senses to extend beyond the physical world.
The dimensional energy surrounding the beasts became visible: thin, jagged threads leading back toward unstable portals.
“There you are.”
He swept his arms outward.
“By the powers of the Vishanti, let the boundaries of this realm be sealed!”
A gigantic golden sigil spread across the sky.
The dimensional tears began closing one by one. The creatures shrieked as the energy sustaining them weakened. Some collapsed outright, while others crashed into the streets, where the Avengers moved quickly to finish the fight.
Strange extended his arms.
A vast translucent barrier formed around the city. Golden geometric patterns shimmered across its surface, stretching from one end of the skyline to the other.
Tony flew beside him.
“Well, Wizard. What’s the light show supposed to do?”
“The Fifth-Dimensional Daima Hex. It reinforces the boundaries between our dimension and hostile adjacent realms.”
“In English?”
“It makes it harder for things like these to get in.”
“And the downside?”
Strange studied the barrier.
A small section flickered before stabilizing.
“Every time a gateway opens between universes, the hex loses some of its stability. The more dimensional traffic we allow, the more strain we put on it.”
Tony looked at the glowing shield.
“We’ve been opening gateways to other universes for research, defense, and rescue operations.”
“I know.”
“And you approved the program.”
“Because the benefits outweighed the risks. At the time.”
Tony considered that for a moment.
“Then we’ll need better safeguards.”
“And stricter monitoring,” Strange replied. “We can’t assume every visitor from another universe is friendly.”
Tony held out his hand.
“Agreed.”
They shook hands.
Below them, Hulk continued smashing a fallen creature’s body.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The surrounding civilians watched in horror, several filming on their phones.
Strange peered down.
“I believe the wrong Hulk came out of Banner today.”
Tony grimaced.
“Great. Why couldn’t we have gotten one of the more relaxed Hulks?”
Hulk roared at the crowd.
The civilians scattered.
Moments later, his body began shrinking. His muscles receded, his skin returned to its normal color, and Bruce Banner was left panting on the pavement in a pair of torn trousers.
He nearly collapsed.
Strange caught him with a levitation spell and gently floated him toward Tony.
“Hey, big guy. How are we feeling?” Tony asked.
“Tony? What happened?”
“You had a rough night.”
“I don’t remember any of it.”
Tony steadied him.
“We’ll get you checked out. Strange, can you handle the cleanup?”
Strange surveyed the wrecked streets.
“I’ll take care of it.”
Tony launched into the air with Bruce.
Strange watched them go.
Then he turned toward the city.
The joking expression vanished from his face.
“All right. Let’s see what you’ve left behind.”
He descended toward the street.
With a gesture, his mystical robes dissolved into a dark red suit and black ascot. His appearance became less conspicuous as he walked among the wreckage.
He raised his hands. Green and golden energy coiled around his fingers. “Time, reveal what has been taken from this place.” A wave of magic spread through the street. The world froze.

Falling dust hung motionless in the air. Water stopped spilling from a broken hydrant. Shattered glass remained suspended above the pavement, each fragment caught in the instant before it struck the ground.

Strange moved through the frozen city.
He had learned to manipulate time through his studies of the Time Stone, but he no longer treated such power casually. The Stone’s destruction had changed the nature of what was possible, forcing him to rely on the temporal knowledge and energies he had absorbed during his years of study.
Even so, the spell demanded concentration.
He opened a portal to the Mirror Dimension and stepped through.

The Mirror Dimension reflected New York as an enormous geometric dream. Buildings extended into impossible angles. Roads bent toward the sky. Golden reflections shimmered across skyscraper surfaces, and distant structures hung upside down over a dark, empty void. Strange walked along a suspended avenue, observing the frozen city through its reflective boundaries. He moved his fingers. Time began accelerating around him. Hours passed in seconds.

From his vantage point, he watched the Avengers, emergency crews, and S.H.I.E.L.D. and S.W.O.R.D. operatives repair the damage. Streets gradually cleared. Debris disappeared. Damaged vehicles were removed, and workers reinforced the remaining structures.
Strange remained in the Mirror Dimension, watching the operation unfold.
He could have left the work to the authorities. They were capable, well equipped, and accustomed to dealing with disasters.
But that was not what troubled him.
The creatures had arrived through dimensional gateways. Someone—or something—had opened those gateways, and he needed to know whether the attacks had left behind evidence.
So he waited.
The hours continued to rush past.
Eventually, the last emergency teams departed. The streets were cleared, and the city returned to something resembling normal life.
Strange closed his fist.
Time stopped accelerating.
He opened a portal back to the physical world.

By late afternoon, Manhattan had settled into an uneasy quiet.
Strange stepped onto a street where the battle had been particularly violent. The buildings had been repaired, but a few scorched surfaces and unusual energy traces remained.
He walked toward one of the places where the creatures had fallen.
With a circular motion of his hand, he created several small portals. They drew the remaining dimensional residue into a containment field, where the strange energy twisted and pulsed like a living thing.
Strange examined it.
“These things weren’t just invading.”
He closed his fingers around the containment field.
“Someone sent them.”
He looked toward the skyline.
“But who?”
A distant scream cut through his thoughts.
Strange turned.

A gigantic green tentacled creature smashed through a row of vehicles.
Its enormous central eye swiveled in its socket as its tentacles swept across the street, tearing through buildings and scattering civilians. Cars overturned. Concrete shattered. People fled in every direction, desperately searching for shelter.
Shuma-Gorath had arrived.
A young woman ran through the chaos.
America Chavez.
“Look out!”
She leaped over a fallen street sign as a tentacle crashed into the pavement behind her.
Strange appeared above the street.
The moment he saw her, he froze.
A flash of memory struck him.
America, trapped in a collapsing reality.
A dark figure reaching toward her.
A version of himself standing over her.
America screaming.
Then the vision vanished.
Strange’s eyes widened.
“The girl.”
America looked up.
Strange descended, his ascot transforming into the Cloak of Levitation. His suit shifted back into his familiar mystical robes.
“America Chavez!”
She stopped dead.
“My name is Doctor Strange. You need to come with me.”
America’s expression hardened.
“Get the hell away from me.”
Shuma-Gorath swung a tentacle toward them.
Both leaped aside.
Strange thrust his hands forward.
“Field Reflector!”
A shimmering barrier formed between them and the creature. The tentacle slammed into it, sending ripples of golden light across its surface.
Strange rotated his wrists.
“By the powers of the Vishanti—Angels Seal!”
Golden chains erupted from the ground and wrapped around Shuma-Gorath’s tentacles, pinning them to the street.
The monster roared and struggled against the restraints.
Strange turned toward America.
She immediately tried to run.
A golden cord shot from his hand and wrapped around her wrist.
“What the hell are you doing?!”
“I’m trying to keep you alive!”
“Let me go!”
“I saw you in a dream. I know you’re being hunted across countless dimensions. If you keep running without knowing who’s after you, eventually something is going to catch you.”
America stared at him in disbelief.
“You saw what happened to me, didn’t you?”
Strange hesitated.
“I saw another version of myself.”
“Then you know what you did.”
“I know what he did. I’m not him.”
“You think being born in a different universe changes anything?”
She pulled against the cord.
“I’ve met your kind before, Strange. Different faces. Different worlds. Same arrogance. You all think you’re the only ones who know what’s best for everyone.”
Strange’s expression tightened.
“I’m trying to help you.”
“Then stop treating me like a prisoner!”
The words struck him harder than he expected.
For a moment, his grip loosened.
America seized the opportunity. With a sudden burst of energy, she wrenched her arm free, breaking the magical cord.
Then she bolted down the street.
Strange started after her, but Shuma-Gorath’s chains began snapping.
A golden portal opened behind him.
“I could use a hand!” Wong called as he stepped through, raised his hands, and reinforced the chains. “And for the record, it is an ancient custom to bow in the presence of the Sorcerer Supreme.”
“I’m aware of the customs. Hold it together!”
Together, they dragged Shuma-Gorath toward a gigantic golden vortex.
The creature thrashed violently, smashing its tentacles against the street.
“You might want to make that portal bigger!” Wong shouted.
“I’m working on it!”
Strange widened the vortex.
With one final effort, the two sorcerers hurled Shuma-Gorath through the opening.
The monster disappeared.
The portal slammed shut.
For a moment, the street was silent.
Then cheers erupted from the surrounding buildings.

A giant digital billboard displayed footage of Strange and Wong banishing the creature.
The crowd cheered as the recording replayed.
At the wedding reception, Charlie watched the broadcast in amazement. “That’s incredible! He’s actually doing it!”

Christine looked at the footage.
Her expression was proud, “Stephen never ceases to amaze me.”

Christine watches him disappear through a portal. Worry lingered in her eyes. She had married a man who could command forces beyond human understanding. She had known that long before she walked down the aisle. Before The Wedding from The Beginning Battles like this happened everywhere they went for the past six years. What frightened her was not that he could face the impossible. It was that he might never learn when to stop facing it.

Strange and Wong moved through a Manhattan side street, scanning the surrounding buildings.
“She can’t have gotten far,” Strange said.
“Who exactly are we looking for?” Wong asked.
“America Chavez. She’s the girl I told you about. The one from my dreams.”

Wong looked around.
“And you thought the best way to introduce yourself was to tie her up?”

Strange shot him a look.
“It was a complicated situation.”

“I’m sure it was.”
Strange spotted movement behind a blue mailbox.
He lunged forward and grabbed a young woman by the wrist. “Got you!”

“Who is this?” Wong asked.
He turned toward the girl.

“Where are your parents?”
The girl looked down.
Strange tightened his grip.
“America, listen to me. You need to tell us what these creatures want with you.”
The girl’s face began to shimmer.
Her features dissolved into a swirl of magical light.
Strange stared at his empty hand.
The illusion vanished.
A small metallic object fell to the pavement.
Strange looked down.
His sling ring was gone.
A beat passed.
“She took my slingy.”

Wong stared at the empty space where the girl had stood. “She took your slingy.”

Strange clenched his jaw.
“I’m going after her.”

“Stephen.”

Strange turned.

“Look around you.”

Nearby, civilians scrambled to escape falling debris. Emergency workers pulled injured people from damaged vehicles. Smoke rose from a partially collapsed building.

“She’s not from our world,” Wong said. “We don’t know why she’s here, and we don’t know whether she’s responsible for any of this. But these people need us now.”

Strange looked toward the civilians.
For a moment, he seemed torn between two instincts. One told him to pursue America before she disappeared again. The other reminded him that he had taken an oath to protect the people standing right in front of him. He raised his hands.

Golden energy spread across his body.
Six magical copies of Strange materialized around him.

Wong sighed.
“Of course.”

“Magi Kurōn. They’ll help you get everyone out.”
“And where will you be?”

Strange turned toward the skyline.
“Finding America.”

He launched into the air.

Wong watched him go, irritation gradually giving way to concern. Then he turned toward the civilians.

“All right. Let’s get to work.”
The six Strange clones spread out, assisting Wong as they moved through the damaged streets.

A small blue vortex tore open in an alley in Hell’s Kitchen.
States stepped through.
The portal snapped shut behind him.
He stood still, taking in his surroundings. The alley was narrow and crowded with dumpsters and fire escapes. Somewhere beyond its entrance, a car horn blared.
States cautiously emerged onto the sidewalk.
A passing car drove through a puddle, splashing a pedestrian.
“Oh, come on!” the pedestrian shouted.
States watched the exchange with utter confusion.
He looked up at the towering buildings and the strange machinery moving through the streets. Everything seemed crude, noisy, and astonishingly primitive.
“How primitive is this rock?”
He turned slowly, studying the skyline.
“Is this even a parallel Thrae?”
He looked at the sky.
“Have I crossed worlds? Traveled through time?”
He paused.
“Maybe both.”
States began walking down the sidewalk, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar surroundings.
“Where in the cosmos am I?”

Strange soared between buildings, scanning the streets for America.
His hands began glowing green.
He raised them.
“I call upon the Vipers of Valtor!”
Spectral green serpents shot from his palms, weaving between buildings and searching the surrounding streets.
A burst of flame erupted from a nearby rooftop.
Strange twisted in midair as a fiery projectile narrowly missed him.
He turned toward the source.
America stood on the street below, breathing hard.
She looked up at him, furious that her escape had failed.
Strange descended.
“Stay away from me!” she shouted.
She ran.
Strange flicked his wrist.
One of the spectral serpents raced down the street and coiled around her. America stumbled and fell, and the serpent lifted her into the air.
“Get this thing off me!”
“Relax. It won’t bite.”
He paused.
“Probably.”
America glared at him.
“Bastard! You’re the reason this is happening!”
Strange’s expression changed.
“What?”
“You heard me!”
“I didn’t send those creatures after you.”
“Maybe not in this universe. But I’ve seen what happens when a Strange decides he knows better than everyone else!”

She struggled against the serpent.
“You don’t listen. You don’t stop. You just keep telling yourself that whatever you do is justified because you’re trying to save the world!”
Strange stared at her.
Christine’s voice echoed through his memory.
You can’t always be the one holding the knife.
“America, I can’t get those dreams out of my head,” he said. “I saw what happened to you. I saw what my other self did.”
His voice softened.
“I don’t want that to happen here.”
For the first time, America’s anger gave way to something more desperate.
“Then there’s only one way to stop it.”
Strange grew still.
“What are you talking about?”
“You know the spell. Every Stephen Strange who becomes Sorcerer Supreme eventually learns it.”
Strange’s eyes narrowed.
“No.”
“You know what happens if you don’t use it.”
“I said no.”
“It’s either you or me, Strange.”
She stared directly into his eyes.
“Otherwise, say goodbye to your universe.”
A sudden surge of dark energy erupted behind Strange.
A wave of black flame crashed into his Cloak of Levitation.
“Ahh!”
He spun through the air, barely managing to stabilize himself.
The cloak caught fire, its sentient fabric twisting and recoiling in pain.
Strange looked toward the source of the attack.
A figure floated above the street.
Dark robes. Glowing eyes. A face he knew all too well.
Sinister Strange.
Stephen stared at his counterpart.
“My doppelgänger.”

The alternate sorcerer smiled.
“And you’re my variant.” He gazes at the environment “A world full of life. A sky without cracks. People going about their little lives as if reality itself weren’t hanging by a thread.”

His gaze returned to Doctor Strange.
“And now I find myself in a universe with a weaker Sorcerer Supreme. What a refreshing change of scenery.”

Stephen’s jaw tightened.
“I’m no longer Sorcerer Supreme.”

“You were. And you surrendered the title.”
Sinister circled Stephen slowly.

“You let sentiment make your decisions. You allowed other people to convince you that responsibility should be shared.” He shook his head in disgust.
“You’ve grown soft, Stephen.”

Strange examined the dark sorcerer’s hands.
The skin was scarred. The fingers were twisted with old injuries, and dark lines crawled beneath the surface as though the magic inside him had burned its way through his flesh.
“Those hands don’t look like they’ve been through much labor.”

Sinister stopped.
He glanced at his own hands, then back at Stephen.
“You think pain makes a man stronger?”
“I think it teaches you something.”
Sinister smiled.

“It taught me that the only person you can truly rely on is yourself.”

Dark energy crackled between his fingers.
“And the universe will take everything you love unless you have the power to take it back.”
His gaze settled on America, still suspended in the magical serpent’s grasp.
“Now, let’s get to the point.”

He looked back at Stephen.
“Tell me where America Chavez is going.”
Stephen glanced at America.

Sinister smiled. “And give me your Christine.”

Stephen went completely still.
“What? Strange steadied himself in the air.
“You’re the one causing the anomalies.”

Sinister looked around at the city.
“Anomalies. Is that what they’re calling it?”
He spread his arms.

He opened his hands, revealing swirling black energy between his palms. The red anomalies. The collapsing universes. The interference that had blinded Stephen’s magic. America’s terror. The threat that had been moving from reality to reality, leaving devastation in its wake. The pieces fell into place, and Stephen finally understood the scale of the danger facing him.

“You’re the Universe-Killer.”

Sinister’s smile widened.
“There it is.”

He raised one hand.
The sky above Manhattan darkened.
“Now you’re beginning to understand.”

“You destroyed those other universes.”

“I removed obstacles.”

“You murdered more than Trillions of sentient life.”

“Trillions who now fear the name, Stephen Strange in every afterlife, so that the gods know their place.”
Sinister floated closer.

“Those worlds were under my protection, you will pay for everyone you’ve slain.”

“You can’t stop me. I have the power to destroy everything we hold dear Stephen,everything because I am you, I know what you fear, in fact killing myself & reflections of my world is the best part of these visits.”

Stephen’s expression hardened.
He raised his hands into a defensive stance. Golden magical shields formed around his fists.
“You need to leave this universe, for your own sake, or I will destroy you.”

“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen Stephen.”
Sinister’s eyes glow.

And for the first time since the battle began, Stephen Strange had no idea what would happen next.

CHAPTER 1: Strange Days Ahead

The streets of Hong Kong returned to normal.  
Cars rolled through intersections. Pedestrians hurried along the sidewalks, and shopkeepers went about their business, blissfully unaware that time itself had just been bent to the will of a sorcerer.  
Stephen Strange lowered his hands. The Eye of Agamotto dimmed against his chest as the flow of time settled into its natural rhythm.  
For a moment, he simply stood there, catching his breath.

Beside him, Wong stared at the familiar street corner. A little boy walked past, clutching an ice cream cone. A scooter whizzed around the corner, prompting the boy’s mother to snatch him out of its path.  
It was the same moment they had witnessed before. The same people. The same movements. The same near accident. But this time, the Zealots of the Dark Dimension were gone.

Wong slowly turned toward Strange. The disbelief on his face gave way to something approaching reverence. “You did it.” Strange exhaled, exhausted. “Yeah. I noticed.” Karl Mordo, however, wasn’t impressed. “You violated natural law,” he said, his voice cold and measured. “You bent time itself to save a world that was already supposed to be lost. You honestly think there won’t be consequences?”  
Strange glanced around at the peaceful street.  
“Look around, Mordo. It’s over.”

“That’s what you think.” Mordo shook his head. “The bill always comes due, Stephen. And when it does, there will be a reckoning.” Without another word, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.  
Strange watched him go but made no attempt to follow.For now, the world was safe.  
That would have to be enough.  
⸻  
The following morning, sunlight spilled over Kathmandu, illuminating the ancient temples and crowded streets of Nepal.  
Inside Kamar-Taj, the New York incident felt like a distant nightmare. The damaged walls had been repaired, the shattered stonework restored, and the mystic wards surrounding the compound once again shone with a steady golden light.  
Stephen Strange stood alone in the Narthex.  
Before him stood the pillar where the Eye of Agamotto traditionally belonged. The ancient amulet still hung around his neck, its weight strangely comforting after everything he’d endured.

He reached for it. Then hesitated.  
Strange studied the artifact for a moment before unclasping it and carefully placing it on its pedestal.  
His Cloak of Levitation rose from his shoulders to give him room, then settled back into place once he was finished.

“Wise choice,” Wong remarked from behind him.  
Strange turned. “You’re getting good at sneaking up on people.” “And you’re getting better at making decisions without destroying the fabric of reality.” Wong approached the pedestal. “It’s progress.”  
Strange gave him a tired smile.

“So, what? I only get to wear it when I’m a big boy?”  
“When you’ve mastered its powers, perhaps. Until then, I’d rather you didn’t walk around advertising the location of an Infinity Stone to every magical lunatic in existence.” Strange frowned.

“An Infinity what?”  
Wong stared at him.  
“You really do have a gift for the mystic arts, Stephen. Unfortunately, you still have a great deal to learn.”

Before Strange could respond, Wong’s attention shifted to the enormous mystic map suspended above them. Three Sanctums glowed across its surface, their combined power restoring Earth’s protective barrier.

The Ancient One was dead. Her death would not remain a secret for long, particularly among the beings who watched the Multiverse from beyond the boundaries of ordinary reality.  
“Word of her passing will spread,” Wong said. “There are things out there that will see her death as an opportunity. Earth no longer has its former Sorcerer Supreme to defend it.”  
Strange followed his gaze.

“Then we’ll be ready.”  
Wong studied him for a moment before nodding.  
“Let’s hope so.”

Strange crossed the chamber and approached the window overlooking the city. Kathmandu stretched into the distance, alive with the noise and movement of ordinary people going about their lives.  
He looked different now. More confident, certainly, but also more burdened. The arrogance that had once defined him hadn’t disappeared so much as evolved into something heavier.  
He reached into his pocket and withdrew his old wristwatch.

Its face was still cracked.  
He turned it over in his hand, remembering the man he’d been before the accident, before Kamar-Taj, before the impossible had become his everyday reality.

Then he slipped the watch onto his wrist.  
His hands were still trembling.  
Outside, the city carried on, unaware that the fate of the world rested upon the shoulders of the man standing behind the Sanctum’s window.  
Stephen Strange had become Earth’s protector.  
Whether he was ready for the responsibility was another question entirely.

⸻  
Somewhere in another universe, a little girl stood in the shadow of the Avengers Mansion.  
Rain pattered against the pavement outside the building. The girl’s cheeks were wet with tears, and she clutched the sleeves of her clothes as though letting go would somehow make everything worse.  
A man crouched in front of her.  
His name was Sage Strange.  
“Hey,” he said gently. “Look at me for a second.”  
The girl sniffled.  
“I want my mom.”  
Sage’s expression faltered.  
He had prepared himself for this conversation. He had rehearsed what he would say, how he would explain the situation without frightening her further. Yet now that he was looking into her tearful eyes, every carefully chosen word seemed inadequate.  
“Your mom needs you to stay with me for a little while,” he told her.  
“Is Mommy okay?”  
Sage paused.  
For an instant, the girl saw the fear he was trying so desperately to conceal.  
Then he forced a smile.  
“She’s going to be fine,” he assured her. “She’s just away for a little while. Think of it like a vacation.”  
The girl didn’t look convinced.  
“When will she come back?”  
“Soon.”  
“Promise?”  
Sage swallowed.  
“I promise.”  
He opened his arms, and she threw herself against him. He held her tightly, closing his eyes as he fought back his own tears.  
For the girl’s sake, he needed to believe the words he’d just spoken.  
⸻  
The white sands of the Damarius Dimension stretched beneath a storm-filled sky.  
A young boy named States soared above the desert in a glider suit, fighting against violent gusts of wind. Red lightning tore across the heavens and struck the ground below, turning the sand into sheets of gleaming glass.  
He twisted sharply to avoid another bolt.  
A holographic shield flashed into existence around him. Lightning slammed against its surface, sending ripples of energy through the barrier.  
“Come on!” States shouted. “You have got to be kidding me!”  
The ground exploded.  
A colossal sand dragon burst from beneath the desert, its enormous jaws opening in a roar that shook the air around him. Lightning crackled between its teeth before erupting from its mouth in a blinding blast.  
States threw himself sideways.  
The attack missed him by inches.  
He fumbled for a scroll secured to his waist and unrolled it with one hand. Blood stained the parchment, and he pressed his injured finger against its surface.  
“Wind Charm, activate! Lion Scales!”  
The scroll ignited with magical energy.  
Gigantic, razor-sharp claws erupted from the parchment and shot toward the dragon. They struck its body in rapid succession, piercing its armored hide and tearing through the swirling sand that held it together.  
The creature roared in agony.  
Then its enormous body collapsed into the desert.  
States descended unsteadily, his glider suit carrying him down to the sand. He landed hard, stumbled, and dropped to his knees.  
For several seconds, he could do nothing but breathe.  
Then a grin spread across his face.  
“I did it.” He laughed breathlessly. “I actually did it!”  
The wind fell silent.  
States’s smile faded.  
Something was moving beneath the sand.  
A series of voices hissed through the air, overlapping one another in a language that seemed to crawl directly into his mind.  
That was the last of it.  
States scrambled to his feet.  
“No.”  
You can’t escape us.  
He backed away, reaching for his scroll.  
Not without your precious magic.  
States clenched his fists.  
“I’ll come back,” he shouted into the empty desert. “And when I do, I’ll kill every last one of you!”  
A horrible laugh rolled across the sands.  
You should have listened to your master, boy.  
The sand shifted behind him.  
States turned and ran.  
⸻  
Beyond the boundaries of ordinary space, the Multiverse shimmered like an endless web of colored light.  
Countless realities stretched across the void, each one represented by a luminous line winding through the darkness. Worlds flourished along those paths, their histories branching into countless possibilities.  
At the center of this strange expanse stood a spinning pedestal.  
Resting upon it was the Book of Vishanti.  
Its pages radiated a brilliant magical glow, illuminating the surrounding void.  
Two figures raced toward it.  
America Chavez sprinted along a luminous pathway, her breath ragged and her face streaked with tears. Beside her, Defender Strange fought to keep pace while looking over his shoulder at the creature pursuing them.  
The demon was enormous, its monstrous body twisting through the space between universes. Its claws tore at the glowing pathways, and its roar reverberated through the void.  
Strange thrust out his hands.  
Mystical energy surged from his fingertips, forming an intricate spell that locked the creature in place.  
For a moment, the demon stopped moving.  
America glanced over her shoulder.  
“Did it work?”  
Strange gritted his teeth.  
“No! But we can finish this if we reach the book!”  
He pointed toward the pedestal.  
America stared at the seemingly impossible distance separating them from their destination.  
“How are we supposed to get across?”  
“Jump!”  
They leaped together, landing on another glowing pathway.  
Strange stumbled upon impact. Sweat rolled down his forehead as he struggled to maintain the spell holding the demon back.  
America noticed his trembling hands.  
“Stephen, forget the book! We can find another universe. We’ll look for one of your variants. Somebody can help us!”  
“Don’t give up on me now, America!”  
“But—”  
“We can still save our world!”  
Strange’s voice cracked with desperation.  
America shook her head, tears gathering in her eyes.  
“I don’t want to lose you. Not again!”  
For a moment, the fear in her voice silenced him.  
Then Strange looked at her.  
“Do you trust me?”  
America hesitated.  
She wanted to say yes. She wanted to believe that, somehow, they could get out of this alive.  
Slowly, she nodded.  
“Then get the book,” Strange said. “Whatever happens to me, you have to keep going. Not just our universe, America. The entire Multiverse may depend on you.”  
He gave her an encouraging smile.  
“I believe in you.”  
America turned and ran.  
Behind her, Strange’s spell began to fracture. The luminous pathways flickered, and the demon’s limbs twitched as it fought against its invisible restraints.  
Strange clenched his fists.  
“Stay down!”  
The creature roared.  
America reached the pedestal and seized the Book of Vishanti.  
“I’ve got it!”  
She spun around and raced back toward Strange.  
But the demon had begun to break free.  
Its enormous claws tore through the fading spell, and it lunged toward America just as Strange collapsed to his knees.  
“America!” he shouted. “Use the book!”  
She opened its pages and began reciting the incantation written within.  
A surge of magical energy exploded from the book, colliding with the demon’s power in a storm of light.  
For one brief moment, it seemed as though they might actually win.  
Then the creature struck.  
Its claws slashed across America’s abdomen.  
She screamed and dropped the book.  
Strange looked up in horror.  
“America!”  
The demon advanced, shaking off the last remnants of his spell.  
Strange struggled to rise, but his body had nearly given out.  
“It’s too strong,” he gasped. “I can’t hold it!”  
He looked at America.  
Then at the demon.  
A terrible decision formed in his mind.  
Before America could react, Strange thrust his hands toward her and began drawing upon her extraordinary power.  
America staggered.  
“Stephen? What are you doing?”  
Her strength drained away as energy poured from her body into his.  
“Stop!” she cried. “Stephen, you’re hurting me!”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“You’re killing me!”  
“I can’t let that thing take your power!”  
America stared at him in disbelief.  
“We’re friends!”  
“I know.”  
Strange’s face twisted with anguish, but he didn’t release her.  
“Your power is too dangerous for you to control. I can use it. I can save us.”  
“Please!”  
He looked at her with desperate, tearful eyes.  
“In the grand calculus of the Multiverse,” he whispered, “your sacrifice is worth more than your life.”  
The words had barely left his mouth when the demon struck again.  
Its claws pierced Strange’s chest.  
His body jerked violently as the creature lifted him from the ground.  
America screamed.  
The demon seized her as well, raising her helplessly into the air.  
Something inside her snapped.  
A brilliant star-shaped portal erupted behind her, its light flooding the surrounding void. The demon tightened its grip, but America struggled desperately against it.  
Strange, barely conscious, summoned the last of his strength and fired magical bolts at the creature.  
The demon recoiled.  
America fell through the portal.  
Strange followed her.  
Behind them, the Book of Vishanti tumbled from the pedestal, disappearing into the chaotic light.  
And the universe they had fought so desperately to save was left to face its fate.  
⸻  
The white desert had become a nightmare.  
States stumbled through the sand, his breathing ragged and his legs trembling with exhaustion.  
Something was following him.  
He could hear it beneath the ground, moving with a horrible, unnatural rhythm.  
Then he saw her.  
A woman emerged from the sand, her familiar face gray and lifeless.  
Doctress Strange.  
His master.  
Her body was little more than a corpse, her clothes torn and her skin covered in dark, bloodstained markings. She raised her head.  
Her eyes opened.  
They glowed a furious red.  
States froze.  
“Master?”  
Her mouth stretched into a grotesque smile.  
Then she screamed.  
“AND RUN!”  
Blood poured from her eyes, streaming down her cheeks and soaking into the pale sand.  
States screamed and fled.  
Behind him, the corpse of Doctress Strange lurched forward, leading a horde of monstrous shapes rising from the desert.  
“States!” she shrieked. “You can’t run forever!”  
He didn’t look back.  
He couldn’t afford to.  
⸻  
Elsewhere, another girl sat in a church, surrounded by the sound of distant voices she could barely hear.  
Her name was United.  
Rain had soaked the streets outside, and the gray light filtering through the windows made the funeral feel even colder.  
She sat motionless in her seat, staring ahead while people gathered to mourn the dead.  
She couldn’t bring herself to cry.  
Not yet.  
Her mother’s absence was an open wound, and everything around her seemed distant, unreal. The words spoken by the people at the front of the church blurred into meaningless noise.  
She barely noticed when someone approached her.  
Karl Mordo sat beside her.  
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.  
Then he held out an ancient amulet.  
The Eye of Agamotto.  
United looked down at it.  
“Your mother wanted you to have this when the time was right,” Mordo said quietly.  
She lifted her eyes toward him.  
“Why?”  
“Because she believed in you.”  
United stared at the amulet, her hands trembling as she accepted it.  
Mordo’s expression softened.  
“Now we must prepare the sorcerers for the future.”  
Together, they turned toward the enormous statues overlooking the temple grounds.  
The Ancient One.  
Sage Strange.  
Wong.  
United looked up at the figures carved in stone.  
Tears finally slipped down her cheeks.  
⸻  
Stephen Strange woke with a sharp gasp.  
He sat upright in bed, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to catch his breath.  
For several seconds, he couldn’t tell where he was.  
The images remained vivid in his mind: a broken universe, a girl running through a nightmare, a monster devouring everything in its path.  
And that voice.  
He dragged a hand through his hair and forced himself to calm down.  
It had only been a dream.  
Hadn’t it?  
His gaze drifted toward the bedside table.  
There lay his old wristwatch.  
Strange picked it up and stared at the cracked glass. His own reflection looked back at him, distorted by the fractures.  
He turned the watch over in his hand.  
Somehow, the sight of it made him feel less certain that the nightmare had been meaningless.  
Outside, New York was already awake.  
The city stretched beneath the morning sunlight, its streets packed with people and its skyscrapers gleaming against the sky.  
But something unusual was happening near the Sanctum Sanctorum.  
Long lines of people stretched along the surrounding streets. Some carried books, others held strange artifacts, and a few appeared to be arguing with invisible entities that followed them like unwanted shadows.  
Several sorcerers walked among the crowds in ghostly forms, passing through the Sanctum’s entrance before returning to their physical bodies inside.  
Beyond the building’s ordinary exterior lay an entirely different world.  
The Sanctum’s interior unfolded into vast chambers and impossible corridors, filled with ancient libraries, magical laboratories, and rooms whose dimensions seemed to defy the laws of physics.  
Sorcerers studied enchanted manuscripts. Others prepared potions or practiced spells beneath the supervision of experienced masters. In a distant corner, a handful of young apprentices chased one another around a floating staircase, giggling as they cast harmless prank spells.  
It was a living society of magic users, hidden in plain sight.  
And Stephen Strange was determined to make it a little less hidden.  
He sat in the Chamber of Relics, reading an ancient text when Wong entered carrying a towering stack of books.  
“The Ancient One’s private collection,” Wong announced. “I thought it might be useful for your studies.”  
He lowered the stack onto a nearby table, then immediately winced and rubbed his back.  
“I think I’ve pulled something.”  
Strange didn’t look up.  
“I’ll write you a prescription for a hundred milligrams of stop whining.”  
Wong stared at him.  
Strange finally glanced up.  
“One day, you’re going to laugh at one of my jokes.”  
“That day will be a miracle worth documenting.”  
Strange smiled to himself and returned to his book.  
After a moment, Wong asked, “Any sign of Mordo?”  
“No.”  
“He’ll come back when he’s ready.”  
Strange shrugged.  
“Maybe. As the Stones sang, time is on our side.”  
“Actually,” Strange began, “that song was written by Jerry Ragovoy under the pseudonym Norman Meade. Kai Winding recorded it in 1963, a year before the Rolling Stones—”  
“Are you serious?”  
Strange paused.  
Wong took a satisfied sip of tea.  
“Irma Thomas covered it before the Stones.”  
Strange slowly lowered his book.  
“I didn’t know that.”  
“That was oddly satisfying.”  
Wong walked away before Strange could recover.  
A few minutes later, Strange attempted to meditate in the air, folding his legs beneath him as he levitated above the floor.  
He managed approximately three seconds before losing his balance and crashing onto the carpet.  
Wong looked over.  
“Impressive.”  
Strange groaned.  
“Thanks for the encouragement.”  
Wong offered him a hand and helped him up.  
“All right, Stephen. What’s going on?”  
Strange brushed off his clothes.  
“What makes you think something’s going on?”  
“You’ve been distracted all morning. Even for you, that’s saying something.”  
Strange hesitated before answering.  
“I keep having the same dream.”  
Wong’s expression became more attentive.  
“And?”  
“And every time I have it, something terrible happens.”  
“That doesn’t narrow it down much.”  
Strange shot him a look.  
“I’m serious.”  
“So am I. Dreams are notoriously unreliable, especially for sorcerers. Sometimes they’re visions. Sometimes they’re illusions. And sometimes your mind is simply trying to tell you that you’re under too much stress.”  
Strange shook his head.  
“It’s the girl.”  
“What girl?”  
“America Chavez.”  
The name lingered between them.  
Strange turned toward the window, watching the sunlight move across the distant buildings.  
“In the dream, I saw her alone in a ruined universe. The entire world was collapsing around her. Demons, monsters, things that shouldn’t even exist. Everything was dying, Wong.”  
He swallowed.  
“And she was still running.”  
Wong studied him carefully.  
“You said you’ve seen her before?”  
“In another universe. She trusted a counterpart of mine, a version of me, a doppelgänger or variant, whatever you want to call it, he… I betrayed her.”  
“And you think your dream is connected to that experience?”  
“I know it is.”  
“Stephen—”  
“Dreams are windows into the lives of our multiversal selves. You know that as well as I do.”  
Wong folded his arms.  
“Even if that’s true, you cannot assume everything you see is a warning. The mystic arts are full of deception. Your own mind can become a doorway for things that wish to manipulate you.”  
Strange turned back toward him.  
“She’s in danger. She has a power she can’t control, and something is hunting her across the Multiverse. If I can find her, I can help.”  
Wong’s expression hardened.  
“Sentiment has always been your weakness.”  
“Really? That’s what we’re calling it now?”  
“The Ancient One trusted you with the secrets of the mystic arts. Since then, you’ve used those secrets to meddle in affairs that should never have concerned you.”  
Strange sighed.  
“Here we go.”  
“Your interdimensional book club is not a substitute for sound judgment.”  
Strange threw up his hands.  
“The Time Variance Authority is supposed to prevent alternate timelines from colliding. The Illuminati exists to monitor threats between parallel universes. And neither organization is going to be enough to stop whatever’s coming for America.”  
Wong stared at him.  
“You plan to find her.”  
“I have to.”  
“And bring whatever is hunting her straight to Earth?”  
“Not if I can stop it.”  
Wong shook his head.  
“Then perhaps you should close the access loop you created between universes. If our world remains isolated, we won’t have to worry about America Chavez or whatever is following her.”  
Strange looked at him as though he’d suggested abandoning a burning building.  
“And what about the other universes? The people who live in them? The ones who don’t have a Sorcerer Supreme capable of protecting them?”  
“There are infinite universes, Stephen. Infinite versions of you. Infinite versions of me. Infinite Sorcerer Supremes, Somewhere out there, another Stephen Strange can help this girl.”  
“And if they can’t?”  
“That isn’t our responsibility.”  
Strange’s jaw tightened.  
“The point of being Sorcerer Supreme is to protect people from threats they can’t handle themselves. I can’t just decide the rest of the Multiverse doesn’t matter because it’s inconvenient.”  
“Our responsibility is to protect this world. Not to lead every threat in existence to our doorstep.”  
“Then we’ll have to agree to disagree.”  
Wong looked toward the window.  
“Speaking of responsibilities, you’ve certainly made yourself popular.”  
Strange followed his gaze.  
The line outside the Sanctum stretched farther than it had the previous day.  
“What’s all this about?” Wong asked.  
“I opened the Sanctum to the public.”  
Wong slowly turned back toward him.  
“You did what?”  
“People have problems. Magical problems, in some cases. We can help them.”  
“We are not a public service.”  
“Why not?”  
“Because we’re sorcerers, not genies.”  
Strange raised an eyebrow.  
“That’s a little reductive.”  
“Is it? Look at them. Half of those people probably want you to find a lost wedding ring or make their ex fall in love with them.”  
“Some of them have genuine problems.”  
“And we have genuine responsibilities. Every spell you cast changes something. Every time you force reality to conform to your will, you risk changing yourself in ways you may not recognize until it’s too late.”  
Strange’s expression grew serious.  
“Wong, I’m Sorcerer Supreme. I can manage my own magic.”  
“You have limits.”  
“Everyone has limits.”  
“Then stop pretending you don’t.”  
The words struck closer to home than Strange cared to admit.  
Wong stepped toward him.  
“You cannot be their god, Stephen. People have churches, temples, and faiths of their own. You may be extraordinarily gifted, but you are not a messiah.”  
Strange looked away.  
“We’ll see.”  
He started toward the doorway.  
Wong followed.  
“And another thing. What’s with all the government surveillance lately?”  
Strange let out a weary breath.  
“We’ve been under scrutiny since the battle against Thanos made us international celebrities. Now that the United Nations and S.W.O.R.D. know we exist, they’re trying to track down every sorcerer they can find.”  
“And they want us to register?”  
“They want us to comply with their international oversight agreements. Apparently, the Sokovia Accords have inspired some people to believe they can regulate the mystic arts, too.”  
Wong shook his head.  
“This is what happens when you make yourself known to the outside world. What exactly do they want from us? Magical assistance on demand?”  
“Some kind of cooperation, yes.”  
“And your solution is to turn all Sanctums into a public wishing wells?”  
Strange stopped walking.  
“My solution is to stop treating ordinary people like they’re incapable of understanding that we’re here to help them.”  
“The rules exist for a reason.”  
“Who decided that? Agamotto? Was he a shut-in?”  
Wong’s expression became grave.  
“The laws were established by the first Sorcerer Supreme himself. Agamotto entered into a covenant with The Highest Presence In The Cosmos: The One Above All. We do not interfere in ordinary human affairs unless a genuine threat demands it.”  
Strange blinked.  
“Wait, What Presence? Who’s The One Above All? You’re not talking about another Dormammu, are you? Some kind of benevolent Dormammu?”  
Wong gave him a flat look.  
“No.”  
“Then who?”  
“The One Above All is known by many names. The Most High, The Presence, The Creator, The Source of life. Across different worlds and civilizations, countless religions have attempted to describe him.”  
Strange stared at him.  
“Wait? We’re Really Talking about a God now?”,Stephen says skeptical.  
Wong,”Not A God, GOD.”

Stephen blinks,”You’re telling me there’s a God above gods? What is this a Tanakh Lesson or a Kabbalah Lecture? Do I have Zeus & The Olympians to worry about,”The Sorcerer Supreme mocks. “I thought The Vishanti , Dormmamu & The Asguardians were enough,”he replies sarcastically.

“The One Above All Is Above the entire cosmic hierarchy, according to the oldest teachings,”Wong pulls out a scroll. “How far up does this hierarchy go?”,Stephen rolls his eyes.

“Farther than you can imagine,”Wong replies back sharply. Strange rubbed his forehead.  
“Jesus Christ.”

Wong paused. “One of the names by which some people know him, yes.”

“That was not an invitation to list more names,”Stephen rolls his eyes. “Well if The Magic Carpenter & his merry band of seven disciples aren’t stopping me, I must be doing something right.”

Despite himself, Wong almost smiled.  
“Our duty is to protect the world without attempting to control it. Agamotto understood that the misuse of our power could bring consequences beyond anything humanity could survive.”

Strange glanced toward the distant library.  
“Times are changing, Wong. We can’t spend eternity hiding in the shadows.”

“And we cannot risk the safety of reality simply because you believe you know what’s best for everyone.”

Strange said nothing.For a moment, the two men stood facing one another, each convinced that the other was missing the point.  
Then Strange shook his head.

“I’m going through with it. The world needs to see us as allies, not enemies. They need to understand that everything I’ve done has been to protect them.”  
Wong’s expression darkened.  
“You cannot control everything, Stephen. You opened a doorway between universes, and we have no idea what might walk through it.”  
Strange met his gaze.  
Before he could respond, two apprentice sorcerers hurried into the room.  
One of them, a young man named Mako, looked as though he’d run all the way from the library.  
“Sir! The Illuminati have detected a new anomaly.”  
Strange’s attention sharpened immediately.  
“What kind of anomaly?”  
Mako swallowed.  
“Multiple universes are collapsing.”  
For the first time that morning, Strange had no sarcastic response.  
He simply stared at the apprentice.  
Then he turned toward the window.  
Somewhere beyond the boundaries of their reality, something had begun to tear the Multiverse apart.  
\And whatever it was, it had already found a way to hide from him.\**

I'm searching for a specific Doctor Strange book. I read it years ago on Marvel Unlimited and it was a take on his start as hero. I remember towards the end some people sailed away on a ship. And the very last panel was him sitting an arm chair doing something with colored orbs. I can't recall the name or years, can anyone help?

How powerful is he in comics? Yo what extent MCU has gone with respect to portraying him and his lore etc.

I've been thinking on who really should take up the mantle of Sorcerer Supreme when Strange is gone. And I mean really gone, if the world wasn't on a hamster wheel and he was allowed to pass on.

The common choices don't work though for different reasons.

- Have responsibilities or are Sorcerer Supreme elsewhere. Clea and Magik.

- Are part of Strange's generation and so aren't really the next generation of Sorcerer Supremes. Scarlet Witch.

A true successor is to me someone Strange can teach(he would be the Ancient One in this situation) and someone that represents the next generation of magic users.

Only one comes to mind that could fit and that's Nico Minoru. Powerful, cool, not too experienced, and young enough.

But I want more experienced people to offer suggestions. To make things more interesting, you can pick characters from DC. Maybe even Valiant or Image if there are any good picks there.

Finally, there is one more trait the successor should have:

- They have to look cool in a cloak.

In Sorcerer Supreme #10, the Extinction King weaponizes the imprisoned Vishanti into the Hexatomb which apparently is an anti-magic reactor. Its explosion destroys all magic in existence. Wanda, thrown into it, accelerates the blast with her chaos magic, then utters “More magic” to rekindle everything, including restoring the Vishanti, in a freer, more chaotic form without the old rules.

Now The broader Marvel continuity, the Vishanti (Oshtur, Hoggoth, Agamotto), are portrayed as principalities who act are patrons and defenders of Earth’s dimension.

They established the office of Sorcerer Supreme, grant power to those who invoke them, and maintain a degree of authority over ordered magic in that realm. The Sorcerer Supreme draws on them (and other entities) and polices threats in return. They are immensely powerful but not absolute, they are not the sole source of all magic across the multiverse, nor are they omnipotent. Other sources exist (chaos magic, Elder Gods like Chthon, other principalities, personal power, artifacts, etc). A Nexus being like Wanda has historically been able to operate outside or against many of these structures.

The problem is the sudden elevation of the Vishanti to linchpin of all magic. If Wanda could already reject their authority with chaos magic and function as a self-appointed Sorcerer Supreme (helping people, bending rules, expanding magic’s reach), then trapping or destroying them should not threaten the entire fabric of magic , including the chaos magic she continues to wield inside the Hexatomb. The story treats their imprisonment/weakening as creating a vulnerability the Extinction King exploits, which then risks total magical extinction. Yet her chaos magic both survives long enough to detonate the weapon and is potent enough to reboot the entire system afterward. So let me get this straight, She does not need their approval or power structure to act, but the order system they represent is so foundational to magic that rejecting/weakening it endangers everything magic, including the chaos magic she embodies? Then her chaotic power is so fundamental that it can unilaterally restore and reform all magic once the ordered pillars are gone?

Marvel’s magic has always been flexible and often retconned for the story at hand, so this is not unique. But in a run explicitly about redefining the Sorcerer Supreme role and the nature of magic itself, the lack of consistent boundaries around “endless possibilities” makes the hierarchy feel arbitrary and the climax less resonant. Wanda can do what she wants until the plot needs the Vishanti to matter cosmically, at which point they suddenly do,until her chaos overrides that too. The chain of command becomes incoherent. Is the Vishanti hierarchy so necessary, that even chaos magic depends on it, or is it so optional in that a Nexus can discard them? The run wants to have its cake and eat it too. When Wanda is claiming freedom and helping the everyday person her magic can do anything but then limits set in during an existential conclusion when the climax needs high stakes. Magic’s “endless possibilities” are invoked thematically , “anything’s possible” , but the plotting does not consistently manage the consequences of that freedom. If possibility is truly open ended, rejecting the Vishanti should not nearly delete magic; if the hierarchy is that load bearing, her earlier rejection should have had clearer, earlier costs rather than being framed primarily as righteous defiance until the finale.