The Forgotten -Marvel 2-

Chapter 44

Kamar-Taj was a beautiful place. Lydia had never seen anything like it. It was a place for sorcerers and sorceresses to learn more about their abilities. The site was full of magic-wielding people, and she couldn't help but feel a bit overwhelmed by everything.

It didn't help that Stephen was going to retrieve Wanda. She was a witch who knew a great deal about runes and magic. If anyone could help them, it would be her. Lydia remembered the last time they saw each other, when she left Wanda behind in Westview. At the time, it felt like the right thing to do. Lydia had to save herself. She had to put herself first, even when it meant abandoning Wanda.

Was that something she regretted? Yes. Lydia wished she would have never left.

But at the same time, her life was finally perfect. She had a family, friends, and freedom. Everything she ever wanted, she now had. Would she have gotten that if she had stayed with Wanda? Lydia would never know, not for sure.

There was something else bothering her: her dreams. If Stephen and America were right, dreams were glimpses into different universes. Lydia had dreamt hundreds of endings, hundreds of deaths. She had seen herself die over and over and over again. Never able to save herself.

"What is on your mind, young one?" Wong approached Lydia, who was staring over Kamar-Taj. "You have been acting strangely since seeing the other dead Stephen Strange, maybe a bit before." Wong knew her strange behavior wasn't from the monster or America. Lydia hadn't been acting abnormal then. It was something else.

Lydia pursed her lips, mentally cursing Wong for being so observant. "It's nothing to worry about."

"But it is something?"

"Doesn't matter right now. We have bigger issues. Stephen-"

"Isn't here yet." Wong looked around the area, gesturing to the others who were far enough away that they couldn't hear. "What is it?"

Lydia sighed but found herself caving. Wong always had a way about himself that made her feel comfortable talking to him. "My dreams, I think they're-" she paused. "If what America said is true, is the reason I don't dream anymore because all other versions of me are dead?"

Wong remembered Lydia speaking about her dreams on more than one occasion. He knew Lydia died in her dreams, all of them. He knew she no longer dreamed. At the time, they were just dreams, things her subconscious imagined. If the others were right, dreams were glimpses into different universes. What were the chances that Lydia died in every single universe? Why was she still alive in this one? The older man felt a rush of fear at the thought. Looking around, he found himself grabbing her arm and dragging her out the door. Lydia was confused but silently followed after him. "Wong-"

"Your dreams," he began, letting go of her arm once they were alone outside. "I need you to tell me everything—every detail, everything. Do you understand?"

She nodded before she spoke. "Yeah, yes. I can do that."

"Good, speak."

Lydia took a deep breath. "They were all different but still vaguely the same. Same abilities, but I always looked different. The hair color was the same, but the styles were different." She wanted to be as detailed as possible. "The dream always started right in the middle of something. No explanations, just fear. If I wasn't running from something, I was fighting it. Giant rock monsters," but there were others. "Someone called the Conquer." She remembered that one. "Buildings rained down on me. I fell once. Drowned, I think-"

"Anything else," Wong cut her off. "Anything that was similar in each dream?"

"Yeah," Lydia nodded. "Wanda."