Chapter 215: Doctor Strange?

In the training grounds of Kamar-Taj, Baron Mordo, clad in his green robes, was instructing the disciples in their magical drills. They performed intricate hand gestures, conjuring glowing yellow sigils in the air. However, one individual stood out awkwardly—no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't summon even a flicker of magical energy.

Suddenly, a golden portal spiraled open, catching everyone's attention. From it emerged a young man in a leather jacket, accompanied by a blond, armored figure wielding a mighty hammer. Trailing behind them was a bound prisoner, his hands shackled and his mouth sealed with a metallic device.

"Keep practicing!" Mordo barked, snapping the disciples back to their drills. He strode forward, his expression wary, recognizing Jon.

"What brings you here? And who are they?" Mordo's tone carried an edge of hostility. Their last encounter hadn't been pleasant—Jon had trapped him in the Mirror Dimension, a humiliation Mordo hadn't forgotten.

"This is Thor, the God of Thunder, and that," Jon pointed to the restrained figure, "is Loki, the God of Mischief."

Mordo frowned, doubt written all over his face. He wasn't a hermit, but he'd been away from worldly affairs long enough to miss the recent cataclysmic events.

"You're joking, right?" Mordo muttered.

"Not at all. But feel free to think I am," Jon replied coolly. "I'm here to see the Ancient One. Where is she?"

"In the library. Though I'm not sure she'll want to see you," Mordo retorted.

"No worries. We've got an appointment," Jon said with a smirk.

Mordo reluctantly led the way. Jon glanced back to see Thor and Loki gawking at their surroundings. The sheer magical energy permeating Kamar-Taj was overwhelming, rivaling that of their mother, Frigga. Thor couldn't fathom why such powerful sorcerers hadn't intervened during the Battle of New York.

"Why didn't these wizards help in the battle?" Thor finally asked.

"Because to them, your brother's invasion was a minor nuisance. If Asgard launched a full-scale invasion, maybe they'd consider stepping in," Jon replied.

Loki glared daggers at Jon, seething but powerless to respond, bound and gagged as he was.

Jon chuckled inwardly. Loki's sins were vast enough to warrant judgment, but punishing him outright might provoke Asgard's wrath—a hassle Jon preferred to avoid.

"When we meet the Ancient One, try not to act superior. She's as strong as your father, Odin," Jon advised Thor.

Thor looked incredulous. "Impossible. My father is the mightiest being in the universe."

Jon didn't bother arguing, continuing after Mordo. Then he paused, his gaze falling on one of the struggling trainees. The man's face was unmistakable—Stephen Strange.

But something was off. Strange wasn't supposed to join Kamar-Taj until years after the Battle of New York, following a tragic accident. Yet here he was, intact, desperately trying to conjure a spell.

Mordo noticed Jon's curiosity. "You know him?"

"Yeah, he was a doctor. Performed surgery on a friend of mine," Jon replied casually, masking his surprise.

Mordo bought the lie without question. "He came here a few months ago, begging the Ancient One to resurrect his girlfriend after a car accident. She refused, of course. No one can reverse death. But he stayed, hoping to find a way himself."

Jon's mind raced. "Wait, his girlfriend died? And his hands… they're fine?"

Mordo gave him a puzzled look. "Yes. Why does that matter?"

"Oh, nothing. Just surprised he walked away from a car crash without a scratch," Jon deflected.

Mordo shrugged and led them into the library, where they encountered Wong, the stoic librarian. Rows of ancient tomes lined the shelves, filled with arcane knowledge Jon knew could elevate his magical prowess.

Tempting as it was, he wasn't foolish enough to steal under the Ancient One's watchful eye. Maybe after she was gone, though. For now, he'd play nice, perhaps she'd even let him borrow a book or two.