"Should I go see her… or not?"
Rowan Mercer stood alone beneath the school, inside a combat simulation chamber he had expanded to absurd proportions with layered space magic. The room was silent, but his thoughts weren't.
Fairy Sphere was the problem.
Even with his current foundation in time-based magic, mastering it would take years. Seven or eight at best, assuming total focus and no interruptions. That timeline was unacceptable. If he wanted results sooner, he needed a new angle. A deeper theory of time.
There were only two places that could offer that.
One was the wizarding world.
The other was here.
And that meant the Ancient One.
Marvel's magic worked differently. Most sorcerers borrowed power from higher-dimensional entities, paying in debts and favors. The Ancient One was… irregular. She borrowed, yes, but repayment was optional. When the creditors came knocking, they tended to leave bruised.
She stood behind the Vishanti. Behind Eternity itself.
Rowan had long suspected that her command of magic no longer relied on external sources at all. Her time magic, in particular, felt intrinsic. Self-sustaining. If he could understand her framework, even partially, it would drastically accelerate his progress with Fairy Sphere.
The question was how she would react to him.
Rowan wasn't a normal sorcerer. His power didn't come from borrowed dimensions. It came from himself. In essence, he already resembled the kind of being the Sanctums were designed to restrain.
After a moment, he exhaled.
She could see time. Past. Future. Possibilities branching like veins in glass. If she had a problem with him, she would have acted already.
And if things somehow went south…
He wasn't defenseless anymore.
"Alright," Rowan said quietly. "Let's start with the New York Sanctum."
He left the training chamber and surfaced into the school grounds. Afternoon sunlight washed over the buildings. Classes were in session. The campus was larger now. More students. More staff.
Since the exposure of the school after Washington, people with abilities had been arriving from all over the world. Children brought by desperate parents. Adults who had nowhere else to go. Those who passed Professor Xavier's screening stayed. The rest were turned away.
The academy had become something close to a sanctuary.
Rowan unfurled his wings and prepared to leave when a column of rainbow light crashed down onto the lawn.
Thor stepped out, grinning.
"Good afternoon, Rowan!"
"Everything settled?" Rowan asked.
"Mostly," Thor replied. "Jotunheim was restless after Laufey's death. I paid a visit."
He shifted his armor into a tailored suit, Mjolnir reshaping itself into an umbrella.
"Oh. It's nearly five," Thor added. "I promised Jane we'd see a new movie. Cabin in the Woods."
Rowan's mouth twitched.
"…Have fun," he said diplomatically.
Thor waved and vanished.
Rowan cast invisibility and rose into the sky, angling toward Manhattan.
If memory served, the New York Sanctum sat in Greenwich Village. Bleecker Street. Number 177A.
If that failed, there was always Kamar-Taj.
Minutes later, he slowed.
"There it is."
A three-story brownstone stood quietly among its neighbors. Victorian bones. Baroque flourishes. A circular window crowning the roof, etched with subtle curves that bent the eye if stared at too long.
The building was saturated with magic.
Rowan landed, dispelled invisibility, and pressed the doorbell.
The door opened almost immediately.
A man in sorcerer's robes stood there, smiling calmly.
"Mr. Mercer," he said. "The Sorcerer Supreme is expecting you."
Rowan raised an eyebrow.
"She knew I was coming."
That confirmed it.
The Ancient One had been watching him for a long time.
And now, at last, she was ready to talk.