225

Chapter 225

The Ancient One closed his eyes and reopened them after a long moment, returning to his calm demeanor.

"Strange is the best among us, and he bears the greatest responsibility. He must face all challenges. Besides..."

The Ancient One smirked. "The power of chaos is something even I dare not touch; they are courting death!"

At that moment, Baron Mordo entered and said, "Master, someone has breached the barrier. They are..."

Baron Mordo hesitated.

The Ancient One waved his hand dismissively. "I am aware. Let them be."

"But..."

Mordo tried to speak again, but the Ancient One interrupted. "Don't worry. They can't succeed. Moreover, that Thunder God will undoubtedly teach them a lesson they won't forget."

Lessons?

Mordo shook his head slightly.

Though they were not close friends, Mordo knew that if his traitorous fellow disciples had truly harmed the witch, they would likely face dire consequences, and even Dormammu might not be able to save them.

Nevertheless, Mordo couldn't muster any regret. He said bitterly, "These traitors accepted the power of the Dark Dimension for their own selfish desires. They deserve to die!"

The Ancient One: "…"

...

Strange went straight to the theater but did not find Stark. Instead, he encountered another star—Captain America, who was in the middle of a performance, engaging in a mock fight with a mustache-wearing adversary.

"Hello, I'm looking for Tony Stark."

During a break in the performance, Strange approached Captain America.

Steve looked at the man dressed in the standard Doctor Strange costume and asked in confusion, "Are you... new here? A magician?"

"You're the magician!"

Strange looked displeased. "I am Sherlock Holmes, a private detective!"

"Oh... I see! I heard that rich families hire people to track down mistresses."

"I never do such things!"

Strange sneered. As a seasoned detective with high ideals, he would never stoop to such petty tasks.

Unless, of course, the pay was higher!

decided not to argue further. He grabbed the captain and said, "You haven't told me where Stark went. I came to see him about something very important!"

"What's so important?"

Captain America asked, puzzled.

"It's about... our past, the past before we arrived in this town!"

"What past?"

Steve smiled and shook his head. "My name is Steve Rogers. I've always been a stage performer, and I've defeated the mustache countless times!"

Strange felt something was off and tried to probe further. "Okay, let's assume what you say is true. Why do you perform the same old routine every time?"

"For publicity!" Steve replied eagerly. "I've helped our country by selling countless war bonds. Every time I perform, I bring guns and ammunition to soldiers on the front lines!"

The more Strange listened, the more he felt something was amiss. "Frontline soldiers? mustache dictator? Wake up, the Nazi Germany is over. He was executed decades ago, the war is long over!"

"What did you say? The war is over? Uh, ah..."

Steve's mind seemed to be struck by a revelation. He clutched his head as blurred memories began to clear.

...

In a classic dormitory setting, he sat across from an elderly man.

"The good ones get better, and the bad ones get worse. That's the side effect of the serum. That's why I chose you."

"I would rather you be a good person than just a good soldier!"

...

On the peak of a snowy mountain, in freezing cold, he climbed out of a train to rescue his best friend who had been thrown out.

"Bucky, hold on!"

"Hurry, grab my hand and I'll pull you up!"

"No--"

...

Ten thousand meters above the sky, facing a plane that could not turn, he sent his final message to the colonel.

"It's impossible to land safely, sir. I must find a way to make an emergency landing. The plane carries weapons of mass destruction, and it will explode if it reaches New York. This is the last chance; it will soon be too late."

"Have you really made up your mind?"

"Yes, this is my choice!"

...

"I know you were sent by Hydra, but that's not important. What's important is that I will stop your plan, just as I did seventy years ago... Wait, you're... Bucky?"

"Who the hell is Bucky?"

"Bucky, it's me, the little guy from Brooklyn!"

...

"Bucky! Where's Bucky?"

Steve woke up with a start, shouting.

Gasping for breath, he looked back at Strange, and his awareness finally returned.

"I... I'm Steve, I'm Captain America!"

Strange's eyes widened in shock. "You... you really remember?"

Steve nodded, his expression turning serious. "I know where Stark is. Let's go find him!"

"Wait, I forgot something."

He ran to the utility room, rummaged around, and emerged with a black object.

"A pot lid? What are you doing with that?"

"It's not a pot lid, it's my friend!"

Steve gently stroked his huge invincible shield, which had been transformed into a dull gray by the power of chaos.

...

"Here, is his room? A comedian?"

Strange stared in amazement at the smoke and debris on the ground, accompanied by a constant "crackling" noise.

Inside the room, Stark was holding a chainsaw, excitedly cutting a TV in half...

All the surrounding furniture, especially the electronics, was almost entirely dismantled, making the room look as if a tornado had hit it.

Captain America was unfazed. "Uh... maybe it's a professional disease. He's not a comedian."