Marvel: You Call This A Sorcerer?

Late at night.

The Avengers' base.

Ronan sat on the rooftop of the base, feeling the breeze of the night. Above his head, stars filled the sky, and the bright moon hung high. Despite the peaceful and serene atmosphere, it did nothing to calm Ronan's restless heart.

No, to be precise, it did nothing to ease his anxious heart.

After meeting with the Ancient One of this universe, Ronan had returned to the Avengers' base and stayed on the rooftop ever since. The excitement of mastering the dimensional mirror spell had long faded away.

"Master, oh Master," Ronan murmured, a bitter smile on his face as he stared at the sky. He kept replaying the words of the Ancient One in his head.

What did she mean by "follow your heart"?

What did she mean by "rules can't bind you"?

He couldn't understand how, as someone who was just supposed to be a bystander in all of this, he was now wrapped up in so many unexpected situations.

Whether it was that stranger on Vormir, or the Ancient One in this world who had supposedly "died" long ago, both had brought him surprises—though whether they were pleasant or terrifying surprises, who could say?

In Ronan's mind, the Ancient One, as the Sorcerer Supreme, had always strictly adhered to her rules, just as she described. She didn't interfere in human wars, nor did she influence the flow of time.

Even during alien invasions, as long as the Earth wasn't facing total destruction, she never showed herself.

The Ancient One, who strictly followed the rules, was the complete opposite of the freewheeling Doctor Strange.

Compared to the Ancient One, Ronan thought Strange was reckless to an absurd degree.

If Strange had a bold, reckless side, it had shown itself early on when he first became Sorcerer Supreme. But when this universe's Peter Parker approached him and asked him to cast a memory spell, Strange actually agreed!

And this was five years after becoming Sorcerer Supreme!

Five years! That should have been more than enough time for a novice to mature into a wise and responsible sorcerer.

And yet, despite being Sorcerer Supreme, he cast the memory spell—a spell so dangerous that it could alter history and tamper with people's minds. Even though Ronan had never used it, he knew it had to be a black magic forbidden technique.

Had Strange lost his mind?

Or was he also "following his heart"?

Ronan didn't know.

But what he was sure of was that things weren't as simple as they seemed.

Especially after connecting the dots, Ronan was convinced that something deeper was going on, something he didn't yet understand.

The only person who might know the truth was the Ancient One.

But everyone knew the Ancient One was cryptic, a walking riddle.

Whether it was the hooded man who concealed his identity or the ridiculously powerful Conqueror Kang who seemed harmless, Ronan was surrounded by people who played mind games.

Even the symbol on his left hand was a mystery.

Is this some kind of joke?

Thinking this, Ronan looked up at the sky and angrily gave the heavens the middle finger.

"This was supposed to be a superhero movie, and you turned it into a mystery thriller? I had my popcorn ready, and now you're making me play detective? Screw you!"

Ronan spat toward the sky, not knowing who exactly he was cursing.

But following the principle of "avoidance is shameful but extremely useful," Ronan decided to stop overthinking.

Wouldn't it be better to just enjoy the show with popcorn?

Why bother trying to solve all these puzzles?

In any case, no matter what happened, he'd deal with it as it came.

There was no point in stressing over what these riddle-players were up to. If it involved him, he'd handle it. If it didn't, he'd go with the flow.

He didn't care what others were plotting, nor did he want to guess.

"I didn't expect to find you here," a familiar voice interrupted Ronan's thoughts.

"Do all you sorcerers have some kind of weird hobby?"

Tony Stark flew up from below.

Only Tony could casually fly around in his suit at night like this.

"Weird hobbies? I have a few, but flying around in armor at night isn't one of them," Ronan quipped, rolling his eyes.

Tony had always thrived on being the center of attention.

From the beginning, that's how he was.

Even in the end, he mimicked Thanos and declared, "I am Iron Man."

"You're a father now. Maybe try acting more mature?"

Thinking about Tony's final act, Ronan's eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head.

It was powerful, but at the same time, it begged for a sarcastic comment.

"Hm? How do you know I have a daughter?"

Tony landed next to Ronan, his suit retracting to reveal his casual clothes.

It looked like he had just come from the lab.

"I don't just know that you have a daughter. I know her name's Morgan, and she's an adorable little girl," Ronan said, noticing the pride in Tony's eyes.

This stubborn old man, Ronan thought. When you snapped your fingers, didn't you think about your daughter?

"I almost forgot. You and Strange can both see the past and future," Tony said with a shrug. "But you know, that's pretty boring."

"The unknown is where the fun is, right?"

Tony's carefree nature made it clear that he didn't care for these mystical abilities. In a way, living like that probably made life easier.

"So, you didn't come up here to discuss philosophical matters, did you?" Ronan asked, looking at Tony's eyes and noticing a hint of anxiety and unease.

It seemed Tony wasn't as carefree about the future as he liked to claim.

"Well…"

"I know you sorcerer types are into divination and all that. Even though I think most of that is nonsense, the others… well, they're not as strong-minded as me."

Tony shrugged, speaking in his typical roundabout way.

But Ronan understood what he was really saying.

"So," Ronan said, his tone becoming more serious, "you want me to predict the future?"

"No, no, not the future," Tony quickly shook his head. "I just want to know if what we're doing will succeed."

"Everyone's feeling a bit… pessimistic. And no one really wants to face that."

Tony tried to play it off as if it didn't matter, but his nervous heartbeat gave him away.

Ronan turned his gaze toward the distant night sky.

The wind brushed his face, and his hair danced, sometimes obscuring his vision.

In that moment, Tony noticed something different about Ronan.

He didn't seem as carefree as before.

He seemed… more serious.

"Tony," Ronan finally said, his voice calm but firm, "war is coming."