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This mystic arts magic was nonsense. Stephen was beginning to believe he was stupid for ever believing that this nonsense could never cure his hands. Jonathan Pangborn saw him as a desperate fool and lied to him about some magic place with magic powers. Stephen was a fool, no sparks flickered from his hand, no God spoke to him. He was a fool waving his hands in the air.
He doubled down with his newly appointed role of a fool, practicing harder than any other recruit, he weaponised his eidetic memory to read every book, every piece of scripture. If one was to quiz him, he would easily be able to explain each movement for any spell, the nuance of each enchanted object, every recorded piece of information about all known dimensions. He could recite the scripture of a God he isn't sure he believed in.
The Ancient One claims that God can tell he doesn't truly believe and that is his detriment. He cannot be blessed if he does not believe.
He admits it to himself that he struggles to believe in God. He is a heart surgeon really, he grew up with science, with certainty. He got to being the best surgeon in America not through faith but through hard work, through his own skill and ability. He is not sharing his successes with a being who won't even reveal himself. The wonders he had seen in the world were from human achievements, human advancement, and belief in humanity.
God? Never been a part of his life, why would it? He's never seen a reason to put faith in an invisible figure who allows evil and suffering and lets humanity suffer after supposedly being his greatest achievement.
No scripture he has ever come across has mentioned dinosaurs either. Stephen refuses to trust people who don't believe in dinosaurs
After his accident, God never crossed his mind. Not only was Stephen’s life ruined, pulled away from his one true purpose, but all the people he could have helped, the lives he was due to save and change. Only a cruel God would allow that and Stephen could never give the time of day to a creature so evil.
So maybe his disbelief in God was holding him back, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't force himself to ignore the obvious flaws in the argument for the belief in a higher power.
~~~
“Don't give up.”
Stephen looked up from his seated and bent over position. It was the early hours of the morning, the sky too dark for even stars to shine. He was alone, he was tired. He sat down, finally giving up on creating a teleportation circle when the exhaustion overwhelmed his brain and his arms were too heavy to hold. He squeezed his eyes shut before opening them, hoping to find a reason to keep going.
He looked around for the voice, he didn't recognise it, he assumed it was another teacher talking to someone else. Afterall the voice sounded far away and around Stephen not even the shadows flickered. He had no reason to believe anyone was helping him. Mordo and Wong have made it clear they see him as stupid, a child. Someone who will never succeed due to his own “arrogance”. The Ancient One had more hope but was very much for the ‘natural’ approach. She would never offer help in the middle of the night.
“Don’t ignore me.”
Stephen did exactly what the voice said not to, he got himself on the floor, back against the wall and drew his knees to his chest like a kid, his trembling hands hugging his legs as his head drops to his knees. Eyes fluttering shut, Stephen was seconds away from letting exhaustion win, unwilling to even make it back to his room, the extensive magic training draining him.
Afterall, there was no way this unknown voice was talking to him.
Just as his muscles relaxed, Stephen’s face was raised by a singular finger made of light. Stephen saw the creature's eyes before anything else, voids of white strong against the human shaped creature made of starlight.
“I’m talking to you Stephen.”
For the first time in his life, Stephen understood God looking at the being before him. Despite kneeling one knee, the being’s presence filled the room, making Stephen feel small against their presence.
“I don’t usually allow the living to glimpse at me, particularly so early in their training but you, oh you Stephen. You are special. You are the one being who can perform my wishes. Nobody has power like you, I need you to find that power and use it. Make me proud.”
Stephen’s eyes locked with the white of the beings eye sockets, he saw only belief, he saw only opportunity to be the best. And Stephen is used to being the best.
Special
That’s what the being called him, special. Stephen can be special.
“That’s right, faith in me will make you the best. Do you believe in me now?”
Stephen nodded. How could he not? This being had to be God, Stephen would never conjure an image like that, he didn't dream often so this couldn't be that, this had to be real.
The being disappeared, dropping Stephen’s head but he still remembered those white voids that saw Stephen, saw him for what he could be. This put energy into his bones, springing him to his feet, stance wide, hopping on the balls of his feet.
After ensuring his sling ring is on his fingers correctly, Stephen waved his hand in a circle only once and orange sparks burst to life, he could see New York, times square, it would be around late afternoon judging by the footfall and the shadows. Holy fucking shit he made a portal to New York. He shut the portal, then tried in LA, London, Nepal airport, his hometown in Philadelphia, Columbia University, hell he even went to the backrooms of his favourite Jaeger-LeCoultre watch shop.
He’s a fucking genius.
Stephen then opened the mirror dimension around him, watched physics break- no, physics isn't breaking, the mirror dimension works on geometry, he can see the walls around him bend to the will of his own physics, his own ideals. He shut the mirror dimension down then built it back up just because he could. He watched the earth around him change to his own will, his own power able to change the world.
Oh, this is better than any surgery, this shows just how special he is, he has seen the Ancient One, Wong and even Mordo alter the world but Stephen? He is different, God wanted him to, God himself told him he the best, told him he could change the world and looking around him he can.
Stephen lets the mirror dimension go, one area at a time bringing reality back until he is once again on the natural plane of existence and staring into a mirror. He saw himself but better. His hair neater, his beard perfectly trimmed. His wrist held Christine's watch but unbroken because he can manipulate reality now. He sees himself surrounded by orange fuzz, sees people he knows realise he is above them. He sparkles as if he himself is a diamond, special, brilliant.
He pictures himself taking over from the Ancient One, no need for a mentor when Stephen himself is the best, he sees himself saving the world like solving a sudoku, easy as simple math. He is the brilliance that Kamar-Taj was missing.
He sees himself through the mirror in the Robes of the Sorcerer Supreme because he knows that's the logical step, he is aware that no one else could ever be as good as him, he is destined to take over.
He refuses to sleep for the rest of the night, instead he pushes his magic to the extreme, sees what he can achieve, proves his worth and specialty. Slowly, others awake and see him, they see his power, see how reality bends to him and feel them gawk at his power. Everyone knows of his greatness, sees the way he wields his power with such ease. He is the best.
“You believe?” The Ancient One said when Stephen exited from the mirror dimension. He knew she was there, although he wasn't on the same plane he knew, that's how special he is.
“They came to me. They believe in me.”
“They came to you?” The Ancient One frowns, stepping closer like approaching a baby deer, “they don't appear to people early.”
Stephen opened three portals, one to Antarctica, one to Buckingham Palace and the other to The Forbidden City in China. Three places he had never been, showing he doesn't need to visualise he just knows what to do and knows the world around him. “They wanted me to understand so I can know quicker, they know I'm special, they know I am the best.”
“Stephen your ego, we have discussed this. Just because you-” she explained with exasperation.
She didn't believe him, he knew he was special and God showed their belief in him and the Ancient One did not believe him?
Stephen flicked his stable hands and she was pinned to the wall and the mirror dimension fell around the two of them. The Ancient One never looked scared, never looked nervously, it’s like she thought Stephen was lying. This can't happen.
“You don’t believe me.”
“Your story is unbelievable.”
Seeing red, Stephen narrowed his eyes, opening five portals, one at each limb and around her neck. Without even a word of respect or a final line explaining why she deserves this fate, Stephen closed the portals, her limbs and arms cutting off and being left in remote places, her torso falling to the ground, blood pouring out from the tears but that soon stops as the blood stops pumping, the rush of blood becoming an ooze before ceasing entirely. Stephen exited the mirror dimension, leaving the torso there. Less mess.
As soon as he exited, others attacked. He used the same method to kill them, opening portals to cut their bodies apart, leaving every practitioner of the mystic arts residing at Kamar-Taj slaughtered for not accepting Stephen’s power. From rookies to Mordo and Wong, people who tried to control him, Stephen watched as he used his abilities to rip them apart. He needed to not move, he watched people fall and never once lifted his feet, he had no need, he was superior.
He watched in satisfaction as limbs ended up in other remote cities and places, away from this room, away from identification. He enjoyed hearing people's last scream before they dropped dead, losing so much blood (or a head) that they shut up. He liked watching them get shut up. More people should shut up. Unless they believed Stephen. He enjoyed watching people who he spoke to, people who thought he was weak finally see his true power.
As the room fell silent and Wong’s head rolled over to his feet and Stephen grimaced. Disgusting. A non-believer dirtying his shoes, at least it isn't blood. With a swish of his hands, the parts around him, the spray of blood and flesh, disappear into the mirror dimension until the building is quiet, peaceful. It is only him, only Stephen, he is all that's needed. Pure, clean Stephen without a drip of blood or impurity. The magic only needs him, he is the best.
“You think highly of yourself.”
The voice, now recognisable as God, spoke. If they had a real face, Stephen could picture a smirk on its face.
“You only need me.” Stephen spoke with such certainty, his belief strong as he knows that God is real and Stephen is his best soldier.
“As you’ve proved. This is only the beginning Stephen.”
Stephen could see the white voids in front of him, eye level, an equal. He is equal to God. Stephen looks at his own hands and sees them gleam with light, the same light that made up God’s body. Stephen becomes God, as only the best do.
~~~
In reality? Stephen was standing in the middle of the training room, the dead body parts littering the floor, the blood sprayed as art on the wall. He never created a mirror dimension, nor did any portals open for him. He killed all those around him with nothing more than his hands and the objects around him. Blood drips from his hands and clothes, it matts in his hair, the air silent beyond Stephen’s voice, his eyes locked onto the blood of his hand with a grin.
He speaks outloud, “I am God.” but the sparkly image of himself in his mind doesn't match the bloodstained man really standing surrounded by the bodies of those he killed as instructed by his own hallucinations.