Mystique was curious about this "Ancient One." She had never heard the name.
"Do you have a picture?"
Vincent almost laughed. The Ancient One had lived for over five hundred years. The Sorcerer Supreme, disciple of Eternity, keeper of the Time Stone. Compared to her, Doctor Strange was just an apprentice playing with matches.
The Ancient One was also a bit of a hypocrite. She drew power from the Dark Dimension to extend her life, a fact Vincent knew all too well.
"Raven, I have a guest. Stay here," Vincent said, standing up.
Mystique realized the guest was already here. Her curiosity spiked.
"Don't try anything," Vincent warned. "The Sorcerer Supreme is out of your league."
Mystique smirked. "Fine. I'll be in the bedroom. Don't make me wait."
Vincent went up to the roof terrace.
A bald figure in yellow robes stood at the edge, gazing at Central Park.
"The ice is melting," The Ancient One said softly.
Vincent walked up beside her. From here, you could see the remains of the ice sculpture in the park, glistening in the moonlight.
"Did the Sorcerer Supreme come all this way just to spy on my love life?" Vincent teased.
The Ancient One didn't smile. Her expression was grave.
"The woman in your bed... Raven Darkhölme. I have seen futures where her actions lead to the end of the world."
She was talking about the Sentinels. The Days of Future Past timeline.
Vincent shrugged. "Are you worried I'll unlock her potential and trigger that apocalypse?"
"The future is a river with many currents," The Ancient One said. "But your presence here... you are a rock that has diverted the stream. I cannot see past you. You are an anomaly."
She turned to face him. The Eye of Agamotto hung around her neck, closed but humming with power.
"Those who wield time are cursed by it," Vincent said, eyeing the relic. "I don't care about the future. I control the now."
"And what kind of 'now' will you create?" The Ancient One asked, searching his soul with her gaze.
"A profitable one," Vincent grinned.
The Ancient One's eyes narrowed.
She had come to assess him. The Vatican incident was disturbing, but this... this arrogance, this disruption of the timeline... she considered removing him.
Killing him.
"You want to fight?" Vincent's smile vanished. The air temperature plummeted. "New York is a nice battlefield. I can control my power. Can you control yours? If we fight, this city will burn."
He wasn't bluffing. If she tried to banish him to the Mirror Dimension, he would unleash everything.
"Your power is strange," The Ancient One noted. "It feels... elemental. Ancient. But I cannot trace its source."
"And your power smells like Dormammu," Vincent retorted. "You draw from the Dark Dimension to stay immortal. Don't lecture me on purity, Sorcerer."
The Ancient One stiffened.
She raised her hand. Golden mandalas spun into existence. The reality around them folded—the Mirror Dimension began to envelop the rooftop.
Vincent didn't flinch.
A glowing blue sigil appeared on his forehead—a teardrop rune.
[Hydro-Kinesis: Sovereign Class]
The moisture in the air obeyed him instantly. The water vapor solidified into diamond-hard ice shards, hovering inches from The Ancient One's face.
"I know magic too," Vincent whispered. "If you trap me, I will drain every drop of water from your body before the dimension closes. You'll be a dried husk floating in space."
The Ancient One paused. She looked at the ice. Then she looked at the Time Stone.
She had likely already peered into the immediate future—a future where they fought, and New York was destroyed. A future where she might lose.
Boom.
Thunder rolled overhead. Rain began to fall.
Vincent smiled. "Rain. My field advantage. Are you sure you want to do this?"
The Ancient One sighed. The golden mandalas dissolved. The Mirror Dimension faded.
"The Vatican has deep roots," she warned. "There are forces older than the Church watching you. Be careful not to break the world, Vincent Hall."
"Look at the people down there," Vincent pointed at the street. "They pay their electric bills to me. They are my customers. Why would I break my piggy bank?"
"I hope you remember that," The Ancient One said.
She swiped her hand in a circle. A sparkling portal opened, revealing the snowy peaks of Kamar-Taj.
She stepped through, and the portal vanished.
"Convenient," Vincent muttered. "I need to learn that. Way better than swimming."
He relaxed. He had been ready to burn 200 million Desire Points to upgrade his abilities mid-fight if necessary. But she backed down.
"Sly old fox," Vincent thought. "She definitely used the Time Stone to check the odds."
He went back downstairs.
Mystique was waiting in the bedroom, wearing lingerie she had morphed onto her body.
"I felt powerful energy," she said. "Who was that?"
"Earth's guardian," Vincent said dismissively. "She left."
Mystique wrapped her arms around him. "Good. Now, where were we?"
For the next 24 hours, they didn't leave the room.
Mystique unlocked a new world for Vincent.
She transformed 126 times.
Young Storm. Jean Grey. Emma Frost. Black Widow. Even celebrities.
It was... exhausting. And exhilarating.
"I want to see your limit," Vincent whispered.
When she finally left, she was smiling. She had him. Or so she thought.
Oscorp Tower. Late Night.
Mystique, disguised as an old janitor, entered the building. Once inside, she morphed into Vincent Hall.
She walked past security with his face, voice, and retinal scan.
She entered the CEO's office and accessed the secure terminal.
She was looking for Project Sentinel or Weapon X. She found nothing.
But she found a folder marked: PROJECT IMMORTALITY.
She opened it.
Subject: Raven Darkhölme.
Notes: The key to synthetic gene stabilization. Her DNA can bridge any incompatibility.
Subject: Skrulls.
Notes: Alien shapeshifters. Refugee population on Earth. Purple blood. Their physiology is the missing link for the Universal Serum.
Mystique's eyes widened. Skrulls? Aliens with my power?
She read on.
Status: Skrulls are infiltrating Earth. Nick Fury is protecting them, but they are growing restless. Secret Invasion is inevitable.
Mystique downloaded the file.
"Immortality..." she whispered.
Vincent wasn't trying to weaponize her like Trask. He wanted to use her to catalog every gene in the universe. To become a god.
It was ambitious. It was arrogant.
She liked it.
She walked out of the office, still wearing Vincent's face.
Suddenly, Natasha Romanoff was standing in the hallway.
"Vincent," Natasha said, her face serious. "We need to talk. About our deal."
Mystique didn't break character. She deepened her voice, mimicking Vincent perfectly.
"Fine. Go to my villa. I have some matters to finish here."
Natasha stared at 'him' for a moment. Vincent seemed... colder. Sterner.
"Okay," Natasha said slowly. "I'll wait for you."
She walked away, but her hand drifted to her holster.
Something was wrong.
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