The glowing orange shield hadn't even faded from Ethan's arm before Mordo's hand clamped down on his shoulder. Mordo looked like a man who had just watched a dog solve a Rubik's Cube.
"The Sorcerer Supreme wishes to speak with you," Mordo said, his voice completely devoid of its usual booming authority. "Now."
Ten minutes later, Ethan found himself sitting cross-legged in the Ancient One's private tearoom. The air smelled of jasmine and ancient secrets. The Ancient One poured two cups of tea with agonizing slowness, her serene facade back in place.
But her eyes never left him. She was looking through him.
"You have innate magic," the Ancient One said plainly, taking a sip of her own tea. "I saw the energy flow. You aren't pulling from the Multiverse or borrowing from the Vishanti. You're generating it yourself."
Ethan took a sip. It was too hot, but he swallowed it anyway. "Is that illegal here?"
"No, but it changes things," she replied, setting her cup down. "Standard sorcerers are basically renting power. There's always a consequence, a cosmic bill that comes due. You, on the other hand, can use magic freely without worrying about the dimensional toll. The standard curriculum won't work for you. So, how about I teach you myself?"
Ethan blinked. Bypassing the entire Kamar-Taj corporate ladder on day one?
"I won't let you down," Ethan said, giving a surprisingly respectful nod. He wasn't stupid. Having the Sorcerer Supreme as a personal mentor was the ultimate protection in a universe filled with cosmic horrors.
But not everyone was thrilled with the promotion.
Word traveled fast in Kamar-Taj. In no time everyone knew Ancient One has taken in a disciple. And it was someone who joined just a day ago.
Few days later as Ethan was coming out of the library he nearly bumped into a tall man with intensely severe features and hair tied back in a strict tail. The man's eyes flicked to Ethan, radiating a cold, palpable disdain.
"Watch your step, novice," the man sneered, his voice smooth but dripping with venom.
"My bad," Ethan said lightly. "Master...?"
"Kaecilius," the man replied coldly. He glared at the closed door of the Ancient One's room, his jaw tightening. He had spent years bleeding and breaking his mind to earn the Ancient One's favor, yet this street-clothed outsider had been elevated to personal disciple on day one? It was an insult. Kaecilius turned on his heel and stormed off, his robes billowing behind him.
Well, there's a guy who definitely won't betray the order and summon a dark dimension demon, Ethan thought sarcastically, making a mental note to stay far away from the guy with the impending villain arc.
****
For the next few days, Ethan's mornings were sheer physical torture.
Magic or no magic, he wasn't going to get one-shot by a random alien. Every day, he ground out the brutal Saitama routine: 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats, and a 10-kilometer run around the mountain. The other novices stared and murmured, wondering if the Ancient One's new disciple was training to be a sorcerer or a WWE wrestler, but Ethan ignored them and collected his 10 System Points a day.
Later that afternoon, after finishing his workout, Ethan limped into the Kamar-Taj library. His legs felt like they were made of overcooked spaghetti, and every step was a personal insult to his nervous system.
Wong was there, looking like a man who was one overdue book away from committing a felony. He was currently organizing scrolls that were older than the concept of electricity. He looked a lot younger and less heavy than Ethan remembered from the movies—but since it was currently 2007 and the movies took place around 2016, the difference made sense.
"Wong! My man! My favorite guardian of the forbidden knowledge!" Ethan chirped, leaning heavily against a mahogany table.
Wong didn't look up. "The answer is no."
"I haven't even asked yet!"
"You were going to ask for my phone, or perhaps a scroll that contains 'artistic' depictions of succubi," Wong said, his voice as flat as a pancake. "The answer to both is a resounding no. This is a place of enlightenment, not a lonely man's lounge."
"Harsh," Ethan muttered. "Look, I'm struggling. I'm exhausted, my legs are on fire, and I need to decompress, Wong. You know what I mean?"
"I know that the last time I let you borrow my phone, the screen was... sticky," Wong said, finally looking up. He shuddered, a visible chill running down his spine. "I had to have it ritually sanitized by three different disciples. I still feel creepy when I check my email."
"Hey, if it makes you uncomfortable, just give it to me and buy a new one!" Ethan suggested with a shameless, hopeful grin.
"As if," Wong scoffed. "This is the latest Stark Industries model. It has a high-resolution display, integrated satellite uplink, and costs more than your life is currently worth in this dimension. If you want a phone, go down the mountain and get a job."
"The outside world is dangerous! There are terrorists out there building iron suits!" Ethan leaned in closer, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Fine, no phone. But seriously... is there any 'Adult' material in the Restricted Section? A 'Sexy Succubus' summoning circle? A 'Vixen of the Void' scroll? I'm dying of boredom here, Wong. My hormones are doing more laps than I am."
Wong stared at him for a solid five seconds. It was a look of pure, unadulterated judgment.
Then, without a single word, Wong raised his hand and pointed a steady finger toward the exit.
"Out."