MARVEL/DC: DOCTOR IN THE MULTIVERSE

The Ancient One listened quietly as Lynn finished his assessment.

"Very impressive."

Lynn adjusted the collar of his white coat.

"Especially your work regarding the Mirror Dimension and dimensional transit."

He paused.

"However, Kamar-Taj's entire magical framework possesses a fundamental weakness."

The Ancient One folded her hands behind her back.

"Go on."

"Your sorcerers don't generate power."

Lynn's tone was matter-of-fact.

"They borrow it."

"The majority of advanced Kamar-Taj techniques rely on external dimensional energy sources."

"The practitioner functions as a conduit."

"A channel."

"Not the generator."

The Ancient One didn't argue.

Because he was correct.

For centuries, Kamar-Taj's sorcerers had drawn power from extradimensional entities and realms, including the Vishanti and countless other mystical sources throughout the Marvel cosmology.

Lynn continued.

"If that connection is severed, the sorcerer loses access to most of their capabilities."

"Cut off the energy source."

"Remove the conduit."

"And the sorcerer becomes significantly weaker."

The Ancient One considered the statement.

"Such situations are rare."

"Rare."

Lynn nodded.

"But not impossible."

His gaze met hers.

"The reason you were on my operating table is essentially the same problem."

"You borrowed power from the Dark Dimension for over two centuries."

"In the end, that power nearly killed you."

Silence lingered between them.

A cold wind drifted through the courtyard.

Finally, the Ancient One nodded.

"Your observation is accurate."

Then her eyes narrowed slightly.

"But you seem to be overlooking something."

Lynn waited.

The Ancient One continued.

"You also use power that originated elsewhere."

The statement was deceptively simple.

Yet it struck surprisingly close to the truth.

The Ancient One knew nothing about the Divine Hand system.

Nothing about talent copying.

Nothing about Lynn's hidden mechanisms.

Yet she had still identified the essence of his growth.

His strength wasn't something he had been born with.

It had been accumulated.

Acquired.

Integrated.

Lynn smiled faintly.

"The difference is simple."

He adjusted his glasses.

"Once I acquire something..."

"It becomes mine."

"Completely."

"No contracts."

"No dependencies."

"No risk of backlash."

The Ancient One looked at him for several seconds.

Then slowly nodded.

There was no obvious flaw in that logic.

Lynn reached into his pocket and produced a copy of their agreement.

"Now."

He tapped the paper.

"The Sling Ring documentation."

The Ancient One extended a hand.

A scroll emerged from within her sleeve.

The material was unfamiliar.

Ancient.

Reinforced with magical preservation enchantments.

She handed it over.

Lynn immediately opened it.

The All-Seeing Eye scanned every detail.

Construction methods.

Energy-channel architecture.

Dimensional anchor calibration.

Space-folding parameters.

Required materials.

Core ring design.

Nothing was omitted.

The complete methodology used by Kamar-Taj.

A genuine treasure.

"Excellent."

The scroll disappeared into his coat.

"Transaction complete."

The Ancient One studied him.

When she finally spoke, her tone had become unusually serious.

"Doctor Lynn."

"You saved my life."

"But I must tell you something honestly."

Lynn paused.

The Ancient One continued.

"You are more dangerous than the Dark Dimension."

Lynn looked mildly offended.

He pulled a tissue from his pocket and casually dusted off his hands.

"I am a peaceful citizen."

"A law-abiding taxpayer."

"A respectable New York doctor."

The Ancient One stared at him.

One second.

Two seconds.

Then replied:

"I don't believe that."

Lynn shrugged.

"Fortunately."

"Belief isn't required."

He raised his right wrist.

A device was attached there.

Crude.

Improvised.

Yet functional.

During his three days inside Kamar-Taj's restricted archives, Lynn had spent roughly an hour experimenting.

Using vibranium fragments.

Alien-alloy wiring recovered from Chitauri technology.

And principles learned from the Sling Ring schematics.

The result was a prototype spatial-folding device.

Not elegant.

But effective.

Golden sparks erupted.

Space twisted.

A circular portal formed before him.

The destination became visible.

The backyard of Miracle Clinic.

New York.

The Ancient One's expression remained calm.

Wong's would not have been.

Lynn stepped toward the portal.

Then stopped.

Looking back over his shoulder.

"Sorcerer."

The Ancient One raised an eyebrow.

"Yes?"

"Take care of yourself."

He smiled slightly.

"Next time, schedule an appointment."

Then he stepped through.

The portal collapsed.

Golden sparks vanished.

The courtyard fell silent.

The Ancient One remained standing alone.

The Himalayan wind swept across the stone pathways.

Several moments later, hurried footsteps echoed from the staircase.

Wong emerged.

Slightly out of breath.

"Sorcerer Supreme!"

"He read almost every restricted text!"

Wong looked genuinely disturbed.

"And then he opened a portal!"

"He had no magical training!"

"There wasn't even a detectable magical signature when he arrived!"

"How is that possible?"

The Ancient One continued gazing toward the mountains.

For several moments she said nothing.

Then finally spoke.

Quietly.

"He's not a bug in reality."

Wong blinked.

The Ancient One's eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

"He's someone writing new rules."

Wong stood there.

Utterly confused.

That explanation clarified absolutely nothing.

Meanwhile.

New York.

3:00 AM.

Lynn stepped through the portal into the backyard of Miracle Clinic.

The dimensional gateway collapsed behind him.

No trace remained.

The city slept.

Lynn walked inside.

Locked the rear entrance.

Then immediately brewed tea.

Priorities mattered.

Only after preparing a fresh pot did he sit behind the reception desk.

Closing his eyes.

Processing.

Three days of information began reorganizing inside his mind.

Thousands of years of magical theory.

Hundreds of spell structures.

Portal mechanics.

Mirror Dimension architecture.

Seal construction techniques.

Dimensional energy dynamics.

His triple-superintelligence divided everything into categories.

Compressed it.

Indexed it.

Stored it.

Unlike a trained sorcerer, Lynn wasn't yet capable of freely casting advanced spells.

He lacked practical experience.

Muscle memory.

Training.

But he understood the framework.

The underlying engineering.

The architecture.

It resembled an engineer studying the complete schematics of a race car.

He might not be the best driver immediately.

But he understood how every component functioned.

Given enough time, he could build the entire machine himself.

Magic would be no different.

Still.

He wasn't particularly concerned.

Magic was useful.

But not central.

His greatest advantages remained unchanged.

The overwhelming physical power of the Immortal Divine Body.

The information superiority granted by the All-Seeing Eye.

Everything else was supplementary.

At present, two magical disciplines interested him most.

Portal creation.

And the Mirror Dimension.

One offered mobility.

The other offered battlefield control.

Both were practical.

Both were worth mastering.

Lynn raised his hand.

Attempting a simple portal.

Golden sparks appeared.

A rough circle formed.

Space distorted.

For a moment, success seemed possible.

Then—

The circle collapsed.

Golden sparks scattered throughout the room.

Failure.

Lynn wasn't surprised.

"Insufficient precision."

The diagnosis was immediate.

When leaving Kamar-Taj, he had relied partially on the prototype device attached to his wrist.

Without assistance, his magical control remained crude.

Understandable.

He had only possessed magical affinity for a few days.

Practice would solve that.

Eventually.

Not tonight.

Lynn drank his tea.

Then activated the quantum-encrypted terminal.

Messages appeared immediately.

The first notification came from T'Challa.

The promised two hundred kilograms of vibranium had arrived.

So had the Black Panther suit technical schematics.

Both were currently stored in the clinic basement.

Good.

The second notification came from Nick Fury.

Seven encrypted messages.

All unanswered.

The first had been polite.

The second mildly irritated.

The third impatient.

By the seventh, Fury's annoyance was practically visible through the text.

Lynn ignored all seven.

Some things never changed.

After confirming there were no anomalies within a five-hundred-meter radius, he shut down the terminal.

Then went upstairs.

Four hours later, he would wake up.

Not because he needed sleep.

The Immortal Divine Body had long since eliminated that necessity.

He simply enjoyed sleeping occasionally.

Four days passed.

And for once—

Lynn's life became pleasantly routine.

Visit /ShiroTL for more chapters.