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Doctor Stephen Strange looked around with a frown. He’d honestly never thought he’d travel to this dimension. However, he knew better than to stand idle while Thanos was about to invade Earth and destroy the world as they knew it.
Intending to court her as if the absurd idea made any sense.
He had travelled to London’s Sanctum Santorum as soon as he found out what the Mad Titan was really after thanks to a little Time Manipulation. Surely, the Ancient One would’ve overlooked this grave transgression had she been still among the living.
Stepping out into a Scottish ancient castle in utter shambles was not part of the plan. Putting himself in the middle of a firefight was not either.
His arms lashed out and Forearm Shields appeared, the dimension energy lancing through his body.
One shield shattered as soon as a laser green light impacted it then dissipated. Like lightning, he conjured another one.
A tall man garbed in black robes of yore froze when the shield shattered whatever curse he threw at him.
Stephen’s eyes narrowed on the assaulter. What kind of aerial energy was he wielding so masterfully?
He watched the two opposing parties exchange lights and realized that they came in different shapes and colours and caused different sorts of damage to the unlucky target.
“Don’t stand there like a simpleton! Use that shield again or get out of my way!” A woman chided hotly.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been scolded for being flighty and unfocused. He was rather used to being criticized for wanting to be in control—which was ridiculous since it was a natural survival extinct; one that had served him well.
The Cloak of Levitation, ever the troublemaker, coaxed his head so he faced whoever expressed their displeasure not so kindly.
Stephen froze and raw energy started coiling around his scarred hands. He swallowed thickly, his throat suddenly dry. He was finding it hard to rearrange his thoughts. “Christine?”
The young woman’s brows furrowed. She angled her head studying him. Oddly, he found her scrutiny part amusing part disconcerting. Once, not so many years ago, he’d stood up to his professors and coworkers’ expectations, criticisms and stipulations with a boldness he couldn’t hope to emulate considering the lesson he learnt the hard way.
The way her emerald-green eyes stared back at him…It was as if she was trying to work out a crossword clue. “Do you know me?’’ she asked slowly then shook her head. “Even though you look familiar, I don’t have the time or the quill to give you my autograph. If you are so inclined to have it, you’d better work harder on helping me.”
Stephen’s lips twitched as he tried to work out whether or not she was being sarcastic or genuine.
“You’re so welcome,’’ he drawled finding her boldness way too intriguing for his own good. “Still I’m afraid that the curious way in which you have expressed your gratitude leaves something to be desired.”
She faced him fully, her smirk somewhat bitter. She really looked like a younger version of the Christine Palmer of his dimension—even though his Ex-girlfriend didn’t have these luminous, deadly eyes.
Well, it was understandable. Dr Palmer wasn’t the fabled Mistress of Death; the one Thanos intended to court with the Infinity Stones.
A loud bang had him peering around. Spurred into action, he pursed his lips in concentration and lashed out at a giant whose face had an uncanny resemblance with that of a wolf. “I’ll gladly offer my services,” he announced waving his hands in the air and working out which spell he should use next. “But I want to figure out the kind of energy you are manipulating.”
The giant produced a wand and lashed out at him. Fiery lightning sprang between Stephen’s fingers in a shower of sparks then sliced the assailant's arm into pieces. He sank to his knees howling and clutching his mangled limb to his chest.
The woman followed with a purple light from her wand and he crumbled to the ground with a thud, his thick skull crashing against the unforgiving marble.
“Thank you,” she took a deep breath. “I’m sure Bill won’t appreciate being denied the pleasure of killing Greyback but hard times call for desperate measures. It wasn’t like we could let him go,” she sighed as she tried to put the wisps of hair that had escaped her loose ponytail back into place.
He stared at her unblinking, running his finger around his collar trying to loosen the Clock of Levitation that seemed too lively all of a sudden. “I don’t know if I want to meet this Bill. Not if he looks anything like our friend over there.”
She grinned as she watched the exchange attentively, clearly caught between bemusement and mirth. She snorted when the cloak dragged him closer to her, then set to work again taking two men at once. Maneuvering her wand expertly. “He’ll like you. More so if you keep producing your orange shields. They’re quite handy. What kind of defensive magic is that?”
Stephen looked at his scarred hands and bright energy danced over the tips of his fingers. “I am Doctor Stephen Strange if you must know. And no, I’m not using any kind of magic. I’m the Sorcerer Supreme.”
Silence.
Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “So, you are a Sorcerer but you don’t have magic... Brilliant. And you are a doctor at that.”
“A Neurosurgeon, actually,” he explained.
Completely unfazed, she rolled her eyes playfully. “You are a very strange man, Dr Strange. Your help is really needed now. Do you see the bald, noseless bastard over there?” She pointed at a man who seemed in desperate need of plastic surgery. Or ten at least. To be honest, he was disfigured beyond repair. He wondered if there was a plastic surgeon talented enough to work with that.
When he nodded, she beamed at him and rubbed her hands together. “Could you be the force I did not know I had and help me take him down?”
Her expression became determined and business-like as she flicked her wand out. Stephen studied the tool she used to channel magic thoughtfully. Unlike the ones the other fighters were using, there was something eerie about hers. It was long and smooth with a handle from two conjured spheres. It exuded immense energy.
"The energy coming off your wand is quite unusual," he mused.
“Wonderful. You are a Sentient as well.” She smirked. “I’m Christine Potter by the way and I’ll give you that autograph later.” Her eyes grew darker and she didn’t need to say anything for him to know that she intended to end the man who had seemingly caused all this destruction.
He sighed. The last thing he expected was for the Mistress of Death to be this quirky girl. But it wasn't like he had another choice.
The Cloak of Levitation lifted him off the ground and steered him to float behind her bashing off foes as they tried to stop her.
He knew he was a perfectionist, judgmental and not easily pleased. But he had to believe the absolute best in this situation. Moreover, Christine Potter was somehow endearing, he couldn’t overlook that. With the right training, Thanos would stand no chance against her.
But first things first.
They had to take care of the man with the serpentine features, collect the Soul Stone he sensed nearby then make a quick time jump to Kamar-Taj.
It wasn’t that hard, right? Everything was under control.