He could clearly distinguish the difference between multiversal variants and his true self—and so could his future self in the video. They both knew this three-eyed version of Doctor Strange standing before them had completely lost his mind.
Even so, he still asked the other for the Darkhold. It was his only hope of getting back home.
The three-eyed Strange didn't immediately refuse. Instead, he made a demand—or rather, proposed a trade. He wanted Stephen to exchange the Christine downstairs for the Darkhold.
Of course, Stephen wasn't about to agree to such a ridiculous condition. With negotiation off the table, the only thing left was to fight.
The Strange from Universe 616 struck first, whipping out a magical lash to snatch the Darkhold. But the three-eyed Strange was familiar with the move. He caught the whip and flung it back, sending Stephen flying and crashing into a piano.
The magic used by the fallen, three-eyed Strange had also changed color. Perhaps due to the Darkhold's influence, his spells had turned a dark, ominous purple.
Stephen slammed into the piano, scattering sheets of music into the air. A sudden idea sparked in his mind. He used magic to animate the musical notes on the sheets, and the tiny symbols shot toward the three-eyed version like a sudden storm.
With crisp piano notes echoing in the air, the shimmering, delicate notes became sharp as blades—almost like bullets—raining down on the three-eyed Strange.
But he had a violet magical barrier shielding him, blocking the assault. After all, he was also a Doctor Strange and knew these tricks well. When he retaliated, he used music magic too—notes and sheet music flying.
Soon, the room was filled with a chaotic symphony. Golden notes clashed with purple ones, the piano melody shifting from crisp and pleasant to fierce and intense.
During the duel, the Darkhold at the three-eyed Strange's waist was knocked to the ground by a stray note. The two entered a stalemate, locked in a magical "beam struggle."
The book lay at the villain's feet. As the deadlock dragged on, he naturally tried to use the Darkhold to tip the scales. Stephen saw it happening but couldn't stop him—he was fully focused on maintaining his side of the magical clash.
Out of the corner of his eye, Stephen spotted a harp nearby. Quietly, he channeled a bit of magic to pluck a single note from it, sending a tiny glowing symbol flying into the middle of their magic clash—like a drop of water into a vat of hot oil. The delicate balance shattered instantly.
The resulting magical explosion blasted everything around them. Both Stephens were thrown into the air.
Unfortunately for the three-eyed one, he had been standing by a window. He crashed straight through it and plummeted downward.
Right below was an iron gate. The sharp spikes on top pierced clean through his chest like a row of spears.
Christine, who had been waiting by the gate, gasped and rushed over. At first glance, the Strange lying there appeared dead—eyes closed, breath gone. But then suddenly, a third eye snapped open on his forehead, staring directly at her.
The duel between the two Doctor Stranges using musical notes as magical attacks had the audience outside the video completely enthralled. This was how a proper fantasy sorcerer should fight! But just as the cool magical vibe reached its peak, the tone took a sharp turn—straight into horror territory.
After obtaining the Darkhold, Stephen didn't hesitate. He immediately flipped it open to study its spells. He found the coordinates of Universe 616 and prepared to use dreamwalking to return.
Christine arrived just then, catching him in the act of studying the book. Disappointed, she muttered, "You Stephens are all the same."
"You're right," Stephen replied calmly. "We are. But there's no other way. That girl's life depends on me." He didn't try to defend himself. Instead, he asked for Christine's help.
To dreamwalk, his soul would return to Universe 616, leaving his body behind in this world. That could get dangerous. He needed her to watch over his body while he was gone.
Though Christine disliked the Darkhold, she understood the urgency. She agreed—but just before Stephen began the ritual, she asked, "Dreamwalking requires a living version of yourself to possess. What are you going to do?"
Stephen gave her a wink. "Who says they have to be alive?"
Cut to: New York City, Universe 616. A stormy night.
Atop the Sanctum Sanctorum, a bolt of lightning flashed—and from a grave in the yard, a pale, decaying hand burst out of the soil!
The spectators watching the video let out collective gasps. Peter Parker's face went ghost-white. At his age, horror scenes were especially terrifying.
Pietro, on the other hand, just said coolly, "Looks like Strange is turning into a necromancer. Figures... fighting evil with more evil. No wonder people always associate sorcery with darkness and horror. It's not slander, is it?"
Watching his future self possess a heavily decayed corpse and crawl out of a grave, Stephen fell silent.
After a pause, he muttered, "You're not wrong. Magic often forces us to deal with dark, corrupted forces. And we don't always walk away clean."
Just like how the Ancient One had once drawn power from Dormammu's Dark Dimension, Stephen knew—if it came to it, he'd do the same.
And based on what he'd learned, some Sorcerer Supremes from other universes had dabbled in even darker arts. Compared to them, the zombie look he was sporting in the video was almost tame.
Still, despite what he said, this "limited edition" version of Strange made many audience members visibly uncomfortable. People are visual creatures, after all. Just look at most superheroes—shiny costumes, strong jawlines, clean images. Guys like Superman and Captain America just look trustworthy.
So, seeing a zombie Doctor Strange wasn't exactly pleasant. Combined with Wanda's earlier descent into darkness, it left many viewers feeling uneasy about superheroes in general. Maybe the Sokovia Accords weren't such a bad idea after all—what happens if heroes lose control? The damage would be unimaginable.
Back in the video, zombie Strange drew a twisted portal with his gnarled hand and stepped through, arriving on a mountaintop, gazing off into the distance.
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