Chapter 187: The Legend of History at the Low Point of Life

In the skies above New York, Tony Stark and Vision hovered, taking in the chaos below. Fires burned in the distance, and mobs swarmed the streets, venting their frustration and anger in every direction. It was a city transformed—its once-proud visage now a shadow of itself.

Tony stared down, his face a mixture of disbelief and dismay. "Is this still New York?" he murmured. "Or did I accidentally stumble into Latveria?"

Vision, his tone neutral but observant, replied, "Until yesterday, it was. The riots below, however, suggest something deeper. This is not merely dissatisfaction with governance; it's the collapse of an illusion—the disillusionment with the American dream."

Tony snorted bitterly. "Disillusionment, huh? That's a polite way of saying people are losing it."

Vision continued, unperturbed. "Perhaps this is necessary. As Steve has said, this country is no longer the beacon of freedom and democracy it once claimed to be. To grow, it must first shed its illusions."

Tony frowned, mulling over Vision's words. "A fresh start? A new beginning?" He let the thought linger, then shook his head. "Doesn't sound like the America I know."

His musings were interrupted as his eyes caught something unusual below—a seemingly ordinary house amidst the chaos. Its door was unremarkable, yet it exuded an unspoken strangeness.

"It's just a door," Tony muttered, narrowing his eyes. "But… no one's going near it."

Indeed, the rioters instinctively avoided the house. Even as they smashed windows and set fire to neighboring buildings, the house remained untouched.

Vision tilted his head, sensing something through the Mind Stone embedded in his forehead. "The Mind Stone detects an energy signature. Familiar, yet distinct. Beyond that door lies… something else."

"Something else?" Tony repeated. His curiosity piqued, he began descending toward the house. "Well, no harm in taking a look."

As they approached, Tony stopped abruptly. He hesitated, as if some unseen force nudged him away. "On second thought, let's not. It's just an old house. Nothing to see here."

Vision blinked, confused. "But you just said—"

"Forget it," Tony interjected, waving him off. "The world's on fire. Let's go home before someone else tries to pin this mess on us."

Reluctantly, Vision followed. "As you wish."

On the other side of the door, the Ancient One sat in quiet contemplation. Her serene face betrayed no emotion, but her eyes glimmered with the wisdom of millennia. She had observed New York's descent into chaos, her mystical senses attuned to every moment.

Behind her, Wong paced anxiously. "Sorcerer Supreme, are we truly not intervening? With your power, you could end this in an instant."

The Ancient One shook her head slowly. "No, Wong. This chaos will subside in time, as it always does. Humanity is forgetful. The fires they ignite today will fade, and they will rebuild, only to repeat the cycle."

"But the destruction—" Wong began, his frustration evident.

"Kamar-Taj does not meddle in the affairs of the secular world," the Ancient One said firmly. "Our duty is to protect Earth from external threats, not to fix the flaws within humanity."

Wong scowled but held his tongue. His thoughts, however, were less restrained. What about the external threats? A certain Asgardian god just turned California into a giant puddle. Doesn't that count as a global threat?

The Ancient One glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at her lips. She knew exactly what he was thinking. "Thor did not intend mass casualties," she explained. "His actions were calculated. He targeted military infrastructure, not civilians. For all his recklessness, his strikes were… precise."

Her tone darkened slightly. "And yet, I should have stopped him. But Thor is no ordinary force. He is a keystone of the future—a being whose choices will determine whether this world rises or falls."

She closed her eyes, her voice softer now. "I have seen many futures, Wong. In all of them, Thor plays a pivotal role. He can be the hope for humanity or its greatest destroyer. This is why I tread carefully around him."

Wong raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He knew better than to question the Ancient One's foresight. Still, her words weighed heavily on him.

Elsewhere, the Ancient One's thoughts drifted to Stephen Strange. The brilliant surgeon was currently at his lowest point, his hands encased in plaster, his once-unshakable confidence shattered.

She observed him from afar, nodding in quiet approval. "Even in despair, he clings to hope," she murmured. "That determination will serve him well as Sorcerer Supreme."

Her gaze lingered on Strange as he clumsily manipulated his phone, holding it with his teeth. Then she saw something that made her sit up sharply. The name displayed on the screen was one she recognized instantly: Maya Hansen.

"Extremis," she muttered, her eyes widening. "No…"

In her mind's eye, she glimpsed the chain of events unfolding. If Strange obtained Extremis, he would regain the use of his hands—but at a cost. His path to becoming Sorcerer Supreme would be derailed, and with it, Earth's future.

"Thor," she whispered, her composure slipping. "What have you done?"

For the first time in centuries, the Ancient One's calm façade cracked. Rising swiftly, she turned to Wong. "Prepare the portal."

"Where are you going?" Wong asked, startled.

"To stop a disaster," she replied curtly. "If Thor's meddling costs me my apprentice, he will answer for it."

As the Ancient One stepped through the portal, her determination burned like a flame. For all her wisdom and restraint, one thought consumed her: Odin's son, if you dare ruin what I have built, I will ensure even the God of Thunder learns the meaning of regret.

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