"He actually pulled it off!" Doctor Strange exclaimed, watching the massive vortex slowly dissipate. His voice was laced with disbelief.
All around them, the dark disciples looked at one another, stunned into silence. Their thick, smoky "makeup" was fading from their faces, and the dark energy within their bodies was draining like punctured balloons. It was vanishing rapidly—proof that Dormammu could no longer channel power from the Dark Dimension to Earth.
Gene had truly kicked Dormammu back into his lair.
The cultists slowly lowered their weapons. Without the strength of the dark power, they had nothing left. Facing off against the sorcerers of Kamar-Taj now would be suicide.
Then, from the sky, a shadowy figure descended—slowly, silently—shimmering with a faint blue glow.
"Gene... you actually did it!" Doctor Strange rushed forward, barely able to contain his excitement. "I mean, this is... unbelievable!"
"It is what it is," Gene replied calmly, landing on solid ground. "I sent Dormammu back to his pit with a single kick. Now it’s done."
The mechanical whir of servo motors echoed softly from Gene’s arm. With a smooth motion, the Eye of Agamotto emerged from its compartment, floating gently into the air in front of Strange.
"Doctor Strange," Gene said, "here. The Eye of Agamotto—returning it to its rightful guardian."
"No, no, no!" Strange waved his hands in protest. "I think the Eye is better off with you for now. Honestly, I’m still just a half-trained sorcerer."
Gene nodded, not pressing the issue. "Alright then. But if you ever need it, I’ll return it without hesitation."
Not far away, Kaecilius crept backward, hoping to quietly disappear from the scene. But just as he turned, he found Gene’s sharp V-shaped visor staring coldly at him. He froze instantly.
A nervous smile crept onto Kaecilius’s face as he slowly raised his hands and placed them on his head. Then, without a word, he crouched down like a criminal caught red-handed.
"These dark disciples are yours to deal with, Doctor Strange," Gene said flatly. "I trust you know what to do."
Strange nodded without replying. The battle was over—but the trauma these cultists had inflicted on Kamar-Taj lingered like an open wound. They would be held within its mystical prison for the rest of their lives.
Elsewhere, amidst the ruins of the battlefield, Victor Von Doom sat slumped among the debris, his once-formidable armor completely drained of power.
"This... isn’t the Victor Von Doom I remember," Gene said quietly as he approached.
"I... I just lost my way," Doom murmured, his voice heavy with regret. "All of this—it was my fault. I was too obsessed with results... too eager to win."
Gene shook his head. "Everyone makes mistakes. This wasn’t entirely yours. Dormammu exploited your weaknesses—he found the crack in your heart and used it."
"But if I hadn’t been so desperate... if I’d just taken my time, none of this would’ve happened," Doom repeated bitterly. "That’s why I say—it is my fault."
Gene was silent for a moment.
"You’re not wrong," he finally said. "You did make mistakes. But Victor... have you noticed something? Ever since you joined S.W.O.R.D., you’ve grown complacent. Like a baby bird in a nest—waiting for me to feed you knowledge and magic. You’ve lost your drive."
He stepped closer, his voice sharpening. "For someone who calls himself a scientist and a master of the mystic arts, complacency is the deadliest enemy."
His words struck Doom like a blade. He opened his mouth to respond, to defend himself—but then closed it again. He didn’t have to think hard. The truth was there, staring him in the face.
He had grown lax. He had stopped pushing himself.
Gene continued. "I once found an ancient parchment describing a strange temple hidden deep within the snowy mountains. It’s said that only those chosen by the temple itself can find it."
Doom blinked in confusion. "What does that have to do with me?"
"I didn’t want you leaving empty-handed," Gene said. "So I scanned the region with magical reconnaissance satellites. I searched every inch of those mountains—but I found nothing. Maybe it needs something more. Maybe it chooses who can see it."
Doom’s brow furrowed. "You want me... to go there? To seek out this mysterious temple?"
Gene’s visor glowed softly. "Yes. From what I’ve learned, that temple houses a group of monks—an ancient, hidden order. If they accept you, they’ll teach you things no one else can. If they choose you... they’ll name you their master."
"I’ll give you all the information I’ve collected. But after that, everything else will depend on you. You’ll have to rely on your own brilliance—your own strength."
"But why me?" Doom asked, bewildered. "Even you couldn’t find it. Why do you believe I can?"
Gene looked at him for a long moment.
"Because, Victor..." he said slowly, "I believe you were... destined to."
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