Chapter Text
Cal was alone.
The whole hideout was empty. Everyone was gone, all of the Zealots, supporting Kaecilius in his plan to destroy the last of the Sanctums.
He wouldn't take it. He wouldn't sit here idly, waiting for them to come back – if they did come back at all. Cal had no idea what would happen if the Dark Dimension became reality. If the world as he knew it would be destroyed, if he would be destroyed. He didn't want to spend his last hours sitting by himself, doing nothing but pitying himself. His mind itched for the obfuscation that only booze could provide, but Cal had come a long way since his last relapse. His past was filled with bad decisions, acts that ultimately led him to lose everything he ever stood for, everything he ever wanted. It would not happen again.
It took a while to find the pages Kaecilius had ripped out of the Book of Cagliostro. He had hidden them well among his personal things. Cal did his best not to look at the picture of his former wife too closely, focusing on the destroyed book instead. Getting inside the meaning of the pages was troublesome, but after a while, he managed. It might be possible to perform the ritual by himself – bargain with Dormammu to make him into one of his minions too, reject Kaecilius' wish to remain a mere mortal and join him in his fight.
He wondered what would happen if they succeeded. If they would become immortal together. If they would die together.
He could still feel the kiss against his cheek, Kaecilius' warm hands on his face, his soft voice when he apologized.
The pages crumpled in his hand, clenched into a fist his body had made without his mind's volition. Anger seized him, mixing with the fear of never seeing Kaecilius again.
Deep breaths, one after another. Old techniques to calm down, to channel the Light into his body.
The Light.
And with that, everything clicked into place.
How stupid he had been all along. The Light, the Dark. How stupid to rush into another doctrine instantly, to make the same mistakes again and again. He didn't care anymore – not for the people he had recruited for his Master, not for the power it had given him to be the leader of a religious group. All he cared for now was the man that had saved him, the man who was now about to make the same mistake Cal had done before him, led by hatred and arrogance and the desire to turn back time, when all they truly needed for happiness was each other.
His head clear of any doubts, Cal opened a portal, the pages of the Book of Cagliostro balled tightly into the fist of his hand. He stepped through it with the knowledge that what he was about to do was right. A moment later, he found himself in front of an unremarkable building in a backstreet of a crowded city at the other side of the planet, banging at a door impatiently. When a green-robed man opened, he didn't waste any precious seconds before he spoke.
»I have to talk to Doctor Strange.«