Chapter 162: Master Mordo
As previously established, Mordo was a rigid man—one who could not tolerate anything that strayed from the rules. When Gene trained at Kamar-Taj, Mordo was extremely uncomfortable with the way Gene fused magic and technology, calling it an "unorthodox deviation."
More than once, he had caught Gene casting what should’ve been pure white magic in a manner that eerily resembled black magic. That aura—it unsettled him deeply.
At the time, Mordo had even gone to the Ancient One to tattle. But her response was not what he expected. Rather than outrage, she seemed to tacitly accept Gene’s methods.
Back then, Mordo revered the Ancient One like a deity, so he swallowed his frustration. But now—now that he knew the truth—that his master had drawn upon dark energy for centuries—his faith had crumbled. And old grudges festered with new rage.
"You are a man cast out from Kamar-Taj," Mordo said coldly, facing Gene in the sanctum. "You have no right to stand in this sacred temple."
"I’m here to clean up your mess—this whole Dormammu situation," Gene replied, the V-shaped optical lenses of his helmet flickering faintly. "And by the way, you clearly have no grasp on what the word ’banished’ actually means."
"You’re pretending to be a hero now?" Mordo scoffed. "You’re nothing but a cold-blooded machine. What, trying to rack up karma before the world ends?"
Gene stared back icily. "I’m here because my mentor asked me to be. I didn’t agree with her philosophy, but she was still my teacher. I respect her deeply—she gave me knowledge when I knew nothing. That’s why I’ve come.
"And you, Master Mordo—you have two choices. One: cooperate and help fight Dormammu. Two: leave this sanctum right now. No one is forcing you to fight. And frankly, your abilities wouldn’t tip the scales much anyway."