Doctor Strange Imagines

Hi

The doors opened, what he expected to be a crowd of cheering people unfortunately crumbled when he was met with the entrance to the Sanctum Sanctorum, not one person around. The halls were empty, and the city outside was just but a carcass of panic and an unsettled feeling that had everyone on edge.

A pair of boot-clad feet stepped out, a billowing cloak managing to make believe the effect of flowing air behind him. A pair of scarred hands were clasped together and the usual relic that perched around his neck nowhere to be seen. He was tired, face degraded with the heavy weight of stress, exhaustion and an overal tension that never faded.

The man shot a dashing smile that turned into a sigh moments later.

"Hi. I am Doctor Stephen Strange, and you may be wondering. Where's the Eye of Agamotto? Why did you give Thanos the Infinity Stone?" His shoulders moved with a dense shrug, chest expanding widely with the intake of breath. The sudden exhale was followed with a heavier note. "But most importantly: Weren't you turned into dust not long ago?"

He continued walking, around the destroyed fragments of the roof that loitered the stairs and to the second floor, down a hallway. There was no rush, or particular aim to reach some destination. The simple notion of just... walking seemed to ease something inside the man's mind.

"The answer to all those questions is: Gone, It's complicated, and last but not least, yes, I was and still am dust at this moment." With a small nudge with his foot, he moved aside a knocked down shelf, disappearing into the relics room.

"So how is it possible? That I am talking to you this instant, you may be wondering." The question was left hanging, and with a nonchalance that held no worry whatsoever, he picked up a book, turned it over meticulously with mildly trembling hands.

"Many things happened in a short span of time." He muttered but pronounced each word clearly, with significance, assigning a certain degree of importance to each one. His precious relic complyingly sat over his sholders, giving no signs of life other than the minuscule tell-tale movements of the collar on and about as if offering its own opinion on the matters.

The sorcerer seemed infatuated with the tome laying over his palms, still focused on turning it over once and twice. "And I'm afraid they won't get better, in fact, they will get worse. Much more worse, enormously worse. And when there seems to be not a speck of hope... things will change." The slide of the 'e' off his mouth left it slightly parted, thoughtful.

His gaze snapped back up, breath stilling inside his lungs for a brief moment. Then suddenly, he was opening the book and flipping through the old and worn pages, catching a fragment of text every now and then. Strange started a slow pace around the room, hunched over the text written in sanskrit, fingers dashing over the lines in a quick read and a silent murmur of words, almost like an incantation. Without looking up, he lifted a hand, his arm, slowly, up above, until reaching his temple and giving it a gentle tap.

"I've seen all the possibilities that could and have become true in alternate dimensions. The world we live in is but the work of millions upon millions of people who have in some way, small or big, altered the course of history. In an alternate dimension, Tony Stark wasn't born, thus ending the history of Stark Industries in a very much different way. In an alternate reality, my family lived up to become a good example of a union. In an alternate pathway, the world was destroyed before any of us was born. This-" He pressed up his hand on his scalp, tugging at the greying and black hairs deliberately.

"Is a good example of the idea of a never ending repetition of parallel dimensions. Right now, we are the past of a history's future, the present of both a history's past and future, and the future of a history's past. Time is such a complicated concept that our minds would never be able to comprehend it to its full extent. The fourteen million, six hundred and five possible futures I saw back there? Those were only the possibilities that were available to the present we have created. So who's not to say that in another dimension I saw seventeen million, fourteen thousand and twelve possibilities? More winning scenarios than just one? Or simple enough, a reality where Thanos never existed?"

The sorcerer abruptly quieted, hand closing up into a fist besides him. "There was no other way." His words echoed with a note of finality. The man's resolve was deteriorating, or possibly already crumbled and had been in a dangerous edge of collapsing not long ago. "There was no other way but others did get a chance. A chance to win in a way that no hero gave their last breath, in a way where at the end we could be happy- God I-"

He exhaled shakily.

"We got to live a reality that other versions of ourselves didn't. But at the same time we got to live a reality where not everyone dies, not everyone is taken away without having the time to notice, protest, or get more time to try and save our world."

He looked up, book temporarily forgotten.

"I could tell you what happens, but where's the fun in knowing an ending without even stealing a glance of what took to get there?"

He passed a page, pointed at a specific section and made a mental note to himself. With a nod, he straightened up.

"The end gives place to a new beginning. And this is where it starts."

With a strong current of wind, the Sorcerer Supreme sunk through the ground, disappearing together with his relic with no trace left behind.

The book landed on the floor with an echoing thud.