Wong led him to the large dumpster unit behind the McDonald's before opening a portal that led to what looked like someone's living room. The portal closed just as he stepped through.

"Where are we?"

"Still Sedona," Wong answered. "We've found that spreading ourselves to areas around the world with greater multidimensional energy was the best way to continue to monitor the world while remaining unnoticed." He walked towards the kitchen, the glamour spell falling from his person as he went.

Stephen removed his own glamour as he followed him, frowning. "What happened? What has driven the sorcerers from the Sanctums and closed off Kamar-Taj?"

Wong did not answer at first, but rather started the process of making tea. Without magic, just like Wong in his reality.

At least some things were the same.

"Before I begin," Wong answered after a moment, "I need to understand some of the differences between this world and your own." The kettle flicked off and he poured the steaming water over the strainer. "What is the same? What is different?"

"Well, the whole issue with the Sanctums and Kamar-Taj, for one thing," he said, following Wong to the small dining room table. He sat down. "Is the Ancient One dead?" A single nod was his answer. "I figured. She was killed in New York by Kaecilius several months after I came to Kamar-Taj— I got there in the latter half of 2016. He was trying to summon Dormammu to our reality. I used the Time Stone to stop him."

He paused to gauge Wong's reaction. The other sorcerer simply said, "It was the same here." He poured tea into two cups, setting one down in front of Stephen.

The cup was too full for the average amount of shaking his hands went through when holding something. That was… unexpected, coming from Wong. He refrained from commenting and let the drink sit for some time to cool down, instead. "Beyond that, I'm currently the Master of the New York Sanctum. Talk is occasionally raised about promoting a new Sorcerer Supreme but the other Masters seem to be waiting for something, though I am uncertain as to what." He exhaled. "That's the news within our community. With the outside world, I've particularly noticed that the greatest amount of differences between the two realities is due to one of the Avengers."

Wong did nothing except take a drink from his cup, so Stephen continued, "Tony Stark. I saw him when I first arrived here, before I realized that this was another reality. He seems to have some sort of sensors to detect large shifts in energy— and it caught whatever the Cauldron did as some sort of energy spike. He didn't have the address of the Sanctum, though, and completely missed it. And me."

As he told his story, Stephen felt a weight lifting from his shoulders; after six long, lonely weeks he was not alone any longer. He had no idea how much it was weighing him down until now.

"And what was so surprising about Tony Stark?" Wong prompted, bringing Stephen out of his thoughts.

He stole a surreptitious look towards his cup. Still steaming. "My reality's Tony Stark is still a weapons manufacturer and not at all associated with the Avengers. He never got kidnapped in Afghanistan, never became Iron Man, had nothing to do with the alien attack on New York, and my world's Sokovia is still intact, so the Sokovia Accords were never written. All the Avengers— though we don't have all the ones over here, and there are names you're missing— they're not split up."

Wong took another sip. "You seem to have a good grasp on the current events within this reality."

"I spent several days reading Wikipedia and various news sites," he admitted.

He received a frown for his response. "How long have you been here?"

"Six weeks, two days."

Wong's brows rose in surprise. "You look remarkably intact for someone with no funds. You've been thieving to survive?"

Stephen could not help but feel offended. "What? No. I thought you thought better of me, Wong," he prodded lightly, and received a poker face in return. Figured. "I would not have been able to get by as well as I have without my abilities and the Sling Ring," he admitted. He would have been able to survive without both— had, in fact, in the week between the end of his lease and the flight to Kathmandu. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. "I took on quick, cash-as-payment jobs across the country. Ate instant ramen for a week, granted, but got enough for a used phone and basic necessities. Free WiFi takes care of my lack of data." Wong eyed his baggage-less person and he added, "All my stuff is stored in a pocket dimension in one of those dark alleys a few blocks from the New York Sanctum, close to a homeless shelter. Clean showers. Run by nice people."

His cup was no longer steaming. Stephen carefully took it between both hands and ignored the hot water droplets that splashed on his skin. He kept his eyes on his cup, preferring not to see Wong's reaction. "But back to the topic at hand. It seems the biggest catalyst of the non-mystical changes within the world are due to your Tony Stark." He took a few sips until the tea was at a stable level. "And it seems his actions have caused a lot of troubles. Can he be trusted?"

"I don't know Tony Stark," was his answer.

"Doesn't matter," he retorted. "He's in the media more than often enough to give you enough information to judge his character, and your instincts are solid."

He caught emotion fly across Wong's face for the first time that evening. Surprise flickered in his eyes before he answered, slowly, "From what I have seen and read of him, Stark is arrogant and his actions have often brought on great troubles. His motivations, however, appear honest and he seems to mean well. He has spent a lot of money and time these last ten years making up for what troubles he caused, no matter how inadvertently." Stephen nodded slowly, lips turned downward in thought. "Why do you ask?" said Wong.

Stephen looked down at his cup as he considered his words. "In my reality, Tony Stark is… not a good man." He bit his lip. "Well known for being a womanizer, but a lot of men in that position are and I don't know if he's— hurt anyone like that. Who knows; I mean, look at Harvey Weinstein. Regardless, there was suspicious activity surrounding him the last decade or so that left conspiracy theorists gnawing at the bit. After I became Master of the Sanctum, I found that Stark was on the 'might attempt to summon a demon due to past practices' list."

"The what?"

"Sorry, the watch list of mortal, mundane threats that have the resources to potentially breach into our territory." He saw movement out of the corner of his eyes, and there was suddenly a washcloth just beyond his hands. He offered a short half-smile as he wiped the spilt tea off his fingers. "But it turns out that the sorcerers in my reality suspect him of being responsible for… quite a few murders. And the world's governments have been turning a blind eye to it for fifteen years. It is difficult for me to imagine him as different as you describe. How could that possibly be the same person?"

The silence that followed his question had an unusual heaviness to it, and Stephen lifted his eyes to meet Wong's grave expression.

"I appreciate the information," Wong said after a beat. "It's time you were brought up to speed on what news you still lack."

Overgrown and encroaching weeds snaked up the buildings and crawled down the sidewalks, consuming porches, lawn furniture, and abandoned children's toys. Cars littered the streets in various states of capacity, from looking pretty functional (if not rather dirty) to being completely totalled. Further down the road he saw a large boulder had ruined half a house and most of two cars.

This, he thought, would make a great horror film set.

And it was eerie, too. While some tagging in bright and dull colors alike covered much of what was left behind on the outskirts of town, the further he went to where the heart of the city once stood, the less tagging he saw. There was a significant amount of more debris and ruined buildings, and the road was completely uneven from where falling rocks had skidded and torn up the ground before coming to a stop.

Beyond the roots of nature reclaiming what it once had completely owned, Stephen did not see any other life. He left behind the loud, early evening birds a mile or so ago (perhaps they felt the uneasiness about this place) and he saw no signs of small mammals taking shelter within the abandoned buildings (they must feel something about this place).

He kept an eye on his footing as he made his way further into town. Stephen did not sense anything different within the atmosphere yet, and he suspected that wherever his end goal within the ruined city was, it would not be something anyone could just stumble upon. This would take his own specific skill sets to unravel.

With luck, he would see his task done to its end, even if it did cost him his life. It was, in all senses of the word, his responsibility. That Stephen believed to his very core.

Stephen's whole body shook as he stood at the kitchen sink, doing his best not to vomit. He could sense Wong nearby, and that he was giving him space but remaining present should he be needed.

It took him a couple minutes to regain control of his breathing and taper down the nausea. For another moment he focused solely on the rhythm of his breaths instead of what he was just told. Oxygen only. In, five seconds, out. Rinse and repeat.

When he felt he could speak without bringing up the remnants of his McDonald's meal, he said, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," was Wong's simple answer.

He took another short period to breathe and regain something resembling control. Swallowing heavily, he managed to say, "How many?"

"Strange—"

"How many?"

The silence sat, tense as a bowstring, before Wong answered, "Seven."

It was getting hard to breathe again. He leaned forward and lowered his head to the cool counter, just trying to get his lungs to work— trying to settle his uneasy stomach— trying to wrap his head around everything—

"Do you need to lie down?" Wong. Wong, who knew him and yet didn't know him—

Stephen straightened himself and slowly shook his head. "No." More breathing. When he felt more physically settled, he said, "I— I think I— I need to hear the whole story. I need to understand how this could have happened."

Wong looked dubious. "Now?"

"Yes. Please. I won't— I won't be able to rest anyway. I think the worst of the shock is over." His heartbeat was starting to slow down. It was getting easier to breathe. "I promise I won't vomit on your clean floors."

The other man huffed in something that could have been anything from disbelief to amusement. "You'll clean it up if you do." He gestured to the living room where sat an easy chair and a loveseat. "I'd offer you something stronger to drink for this, but I really don't want to tempt fate."

"Funny."

Wong took the chair and Stephen settled on the couch. The doctor remained silent as the other gathered his thoughts.

"Like you, this reality's Stephen Strange came to Kamar-Taj in 2016. I was not present for his first meeting with the Ancient One, but I was told later by Mordo about how he found him and what occurred. Strange was wandering about Kathmandu, asking about Kamar-Taj on the streets. Mordo admired his persistence and eventually approached him. From what I understand, Strange did not speak until the Ancient One spoke with him."

He must have been frowning, because Wong paused and asked, "What is it?"

"There's already differences— I mean, I don't see why Mordo would lie about this. In my reality, Mordo saved me from three thugs trying to steal my watch."

"A watch?"

"It was my last one. A— a gift. From someone I consider a dear friend." He rubbed at his wrist. "Also, I was not silent the entire route and definitely spoke before the Ancient One did. I thought Hamir was him. Not her." His lips twitched at the memory.

Wong's brow furrowed, but he kept his thoughts to himself. "From Mordo's tale, Strange was full of disbelief and anger and mocked the Ancient One's words. She then forced his astral form through several dimensions."

"Accurate," he admitted.

"When he came back to his body, however, he was apologetic. The Ancient One forgave his hubris and he was permitted to remain."

Stephen made another face. "I probably should have done that." At Wong's questioning look, he said, "I think I said something along the lines of 'show me!' I was desperate at this point. I'm pretty sure I forgot to add a 'please'. Definitely didn't actually apologize. It took me five hours to get them to let me back in." He snorted softly. "I was a bit of a douchebag."

Wong inclined his head in acknowledgement, then continued, "I met Strange eventually, but we did not talk often. He was polite, but distant. Didn't socialize much with others. Very intelligent. One thing that I did note quickly was that he always wore gloves, no matter the weather."

He looked down at his scarred hands with a soft frown. "Gloves seem useless if they're still shaking," he muttered.

"I couldn't say why he did since the shaking was still evident. I never knew him well enough to ask." Stephen frowned further at that response even as Wong continued. "I believe that what happened with Kaecilius and Dormammu was very similar in this reality to your own. You mentioned you used the Time Stone earlier; you used it to create a loop?" He offered a silent nod of affirmation. "Then it is all but the same. However, while it seems you have managed to recover and grow from the harrowing experience it must have been, hindsight has brought me to believe the Stephen Strange in this reality broke due to what happened.

"He was already a very reclusive man; after he became Master of the New York Sanctum, he only came to Kamar-Taj for mandatory meetings between the Masters. Those who went to the Sanctum for study, reference, or other business rarely saw him." He paused. "I regret not reaching out. I should have seen it coming."

Stephen frowned. "You're not to blame, Wong. This— this me, my counterpart, he made his own decisions. No matter what he went through, it's no excuse. I mean, I went through the same thing and I didn't turn into…" He trailed off and swallowed heavily. He couldn't quite say the word, not yet.

Wong inclined his head. "I appreciate the sentiment." He paused. "It may be less confusing if I call you Stephen, if you don't mind."

"Not at all!" he reassured. "Wong and I in— well, we're not friends per se, but definitely colleagues in good standing, and we're on a first name basis. At least, I think Wong's your first name. You still haven't told me otherwise."

His lips curled up into a very slight smile, but his expression quickly sobered, causing what good humor Stephen was forcing upon the conversation to completely dissipate. "About sixteen months ago was when the troubles really started. During one of the meetings between us Masters, Strange started to expound theories about how we may better protect the earth. As the 'Avengers were broken up' and 'the world's governments were too busy bickering to do their job', he believed we should consider keeping an eye on all large threats to Earth's stability, mystical or otherwise.

"It is not a bad idea in theory, but the logistics of such a move— especially with the Accords— made everyone reluctant to try and work out any sort of agreement with any government. We are used to operating in the shadows because the threats we deal with are of that nature. Alongside that, we do not necessarily have the manpower to deal with many of the mundane threats that may be better suited for a special ops team led by Captain America."

"We're not soldiers," Stephen added.

Wong nodded. "That we are not. Protectors, yes. But there is a difference." He pursed his lips. "Strange said nothing to these points and I thought that was the end of it. A month later during our next gathering he brought it up again, but this time mentioned that he was researching sources of power, both of this earth and of other dimensions, that can be utilized by magic to fully defend the earth of all threats great and small." He exhaled. "It was Hamir who asked him if he had looked into the Dark Dimension. He did not answer the question directly. After that meeting, Hamir, Minoru, and I spoke and we decided to hide the Time Stone. Afterwards, I reached out to Mordo."

Stephen's brow furrowed. "Mordo? So he did leave the order in this universe, as well?"

"Yes. However, as he was removing his effects from Kamar-Taj, I spoke with him. I had doubts about your counterpart and the Ancient One's belief that you could potentially be the next Sorcerer Supreme."

"Wait— what?"

Wong's lips curled upward. "You did say earlier that you wondered what the other Masters are waiting for. I am pretty certain they are waiting until you are ready." Before Stephen could argue about it more (him, really?) Wong said, "But that is a topic for another time. I doubted Strange and Mordo did as well, albeit for different reasons. He agreed to stay in touch and provided a neutral source for messages."

Stephen lowered his head. "I have— I've tried to find him, on occasion. But he has remained out of sight since he left. I don't… I don't know if my reality's Wong is in touch."

"I doubt it." He lifted his head and met Wong's serious look. "You have displayed none of the traits that made me wary of Strange. That was my sole reason to keep in contact with Mordo."

"It seems you had good reason," he answered, throat dry.

"It took a couple weeks before Strange came for the Eye and found it missing. I was not in the library at the time. He found… he found Hamir first." Wong paused. "From what I understand, they argued. In all my time in Kamar-Taj I've never heard Hamir raise his voice. According to those who overheard the fight, he raised his voice but once. A couple minutes later, the first blows fell."

Stephen bent his head and closed his eyes in visible grief as Wong continued. "By the time I arrived to Kamar-Taj, the fight had been going for several minutes and the damage was already phenomenal. Before I could join, Minoru tasked me with collecting the most important of books, records, and relics that could be carried with the novices and younger, less experienced apprentices being evacuated.

"I did all this with what we had in Kamar-Taj as well as the three Sanctums, focusing especially on items of power. And I contacted Mordo."

He exhaled softly. "By the time I had seen to all of that and went back to Kamar-Taj, the fight was over. As I said, there were seven deaths, and several more injured." His gaze lowered for the first time. "If I had been present in the library, I would have been the one confronted, rather than Hamir."

Stephen swallowed. "It's not your fault," he whispered, but he knew how meaningless those words could be in the presence of guilt. "Who… who else? Other than Hamir?"

Wong lifted his gaze. "Masters Minoru and Grem. Apprentices Li, Patil, and Farris." He paused. "And Mordo."

His breath shuddered and the shaking in his hands increased. He clasped them together to try to get them to stop. They didn't. "God," he muttered.

Wong waited for a moment before continuing. "With four Masters, including all Sanctum keepers, gone in one day, those of us who remained decided to remove Kamar-Taj from the physical plane until order could be restored and focus on protecting the Sanctums. We soon discovered that whatever powers Strange now had gave him the ability to oversee the Sanctums no matter his position around the globe. His added shields and protection spells have certainly made them less penetrable to hostile forces, though you've seen what the strain of power has done to the facade. I find it odd that he did not come immediately to New York when your incident with the Cauldron occurred."

He was still thinking about the battle and the dead and nearly missed the implied question. "For— for all I know, he did come. Iron Man was there, though, so he could have simply gone immediately inside. I didn't go back in after I saw Stark; I headed to the public library. I didn't get back there for several hours."

"That is very fortunate."

Stephen ran his hands through his hair. "It doesn't really matter. But how— how have you been able to keep everyone safe since? Is he not…" He couldn't finish the thought.

"Strange is not looking to slaughter every sorcerer." He paused. "I don't know if he was necessarily trying to kill anyone that day; most deaths seemed to be caused by falling debris. If he were actively hunting us, I don't know how many of us would still be alive. I don't think he realizes that I was responsible for removing all the relics, especially the Eye of Agamotto. He would have found me if he knew that."

"Then why are you telling me all this?" Stephen cried, causing Wong to pause in confusion. The doctor stood and began to pace. Anger and grief poured into his next words. "How can you give me any sort of trust? How can you invite me into your home— your hideaway, sit with me, give me a cup of damned tea when I've completely wronged you and everyone you know?"

"Because you're not him," Wong said with a firmness that stopped Stephen in his tracks. He opened his mouth to argue, but Wong spoke over him, "Even if your magical signature wasn't completely different, I knew the moment I saw you that you weren't him."

His throat felt dry. "How?" he managed.

"Your hands, for one thing. The moment he could he began to use glamour to cover up the scars. If he's now drawing power from the Dark Dimension as I suspect, it's possible he's solved the shaking as well." Stephen frowned at that bit of news. "Secondly, the way you greeted me was… different. At this point of time I don't know what Strange would do if we bumped into each other with civilians around us, but I don't believe he would allow me to make the first move. Offering the fry was just the final confirmation for me to know that not only were you of another reality, but your personality was completely different. Our conversation since has shown me that you are the man the Ancient One saw. It's to our reality's loss that we did not have you, Stephen."

He could not begin to describe what those words, coming from the stoic, unflappable man, meant to him. He looked away to compose himself, then answered quietly, "Thank you." He sat down once more and studied his hands before raising his eyes to meet Wong's. "Your reality has me for now, and I swear to you, Wong, that I will do my best to fix this wrong before I go home."

Part of the long term effect of using magic constantly was that one gained the ability to feel and on occasion see where magic existed within the physical world. It manifested itself differently depending on the sort of magic around. Some magic felt a bit like static electricity, while other types felt like a sudden cold spot. Some magic hovered in soft mists of various colors and some types appeared like dancing sparks. The more experienced a sorcerer, the easier magic became to detect.

In this case, it was when the sky was darker and Stephen was deep within the ruined city that he first sensed the presence of magic in the vicinity, with a vague idea as to its general direction. He proceeded with caution towards the crater lake, mindful of his footing as the dim light barely illuminated the holes and debris upon the road.

He was perhaps one hundred yards from the edge of the crater itself when he had a clear road ahead and, more importantly, a visual on his final destination.

Across the lake, perhaps half a mile away in a direct line, was an old fortress set upon a steep hill. Even from his vantage point he could see the jagged, frazzled energy of unstable magic surrounding the premises, concentrated especially in the highest building.

It would take perhaps an hour to make his way around the perimeter while maintaining his cautious pace through the detritus. There was enough light in the twilight sky to illuminate the way without overdue risk.

Onwards to his doom, then. He adjusted the straps sitting on his back and began to put one step in front of the other.

Neither of them were in any particular mood to try and sleep, even as the hour struck midnight (which meant it was 2AM in New York, but he doubted he would be seeing the proverbial Sandman, no matter the weariness that sunk into his very bones).

At some point Wong left Stephen to go to the kitchen. When he returned, he was bearing two cups of tea. This time the cup he handed to the doctor was only three-fourths full.

"Thank you," he murmured, and took a slow sip. The burning water felt like some sort of retribution for the crimes his other self had committed. With that thought, he took another drink. "Do you… do you know what he's been doing since…" Since he murdered seven people. Stephen squeezed his eyes shut.

"He has focused upon that which led to the conflict in the first place: collecting sources of power to grow his own, presumably to better protect reality." Wong took a sip from his cup. "I do not know if he still tells himself that or not, but that was his story then."

Stephen's brow furrowed. "Sources of— are you telling me he is responsible for the thefts at the power plants? The unusual volcanic activity?" At the confirming nod, he continued, "And the disaster at Stark Industries? He killed someone! And from what it sounded like, three others were critically injured—"

"Stephen."

He ignored him. "How many more died because of him?" Placing the cup down on the coffee table, he pulled out his phone and tried to bring up his browser with shaky fingers.

"Stephen."

The browser was taking a very long time to load. It was only when it told him he was offline that Stephen remembered that he had no sort of data. "Wong, what's your WiFi?"

"Stephen!"

His hands shook to the point that he dropped the phone. He froze as the hard casing clattered against the wooden floors. When he moved again, a shuddering exhale ran through his body and he put his head in his shaking, useless hands.

A soft noise in the background was all he heard before he felt a gentle hand fall on his shoulder. At the contact, another shudder ran through him and he swallowed down all rising emotions that were beginning to brim upward towards the surface. Throughout this Wong remained present, a silent but unyielding support.

When he felt he could speak without completely breaking down, he murmured, "Sorry."

The hand left his shoulder. "Drink your tea," was his reply.

Stephen lifted his face from his palms and bent down to grab his phone. He put it on the table and waited for a moment for the shaking in his hands to slow down before grabbing the cup again. He took a drink; it was no longer scalding, but part of him felt that it should be.

Wong waited until he lowered the cup to speak again. "It may be best if we continue this in the morning."

"My disgust will not have dissipated by then," Stephen answered. "If you do not tell me, Wong, I will take your laptop and find the information myself."

"It's password-protected."

"Fine. I'll go to the library."

"At midnight?"

"It's not midnight in Europe."

He sighed and settled once again in the easy chair. "I am wholly reminded of the stubborn traits I glimpsed in your counterpart. It's probably universal."

"Probably," he murmured, but he could not muster the energy to pretend a lighthearted tone.

Wong leaned back in his seat. "I imagine in your reality you have protocols for when business regarding the Mystic Arts brushes with the intelligence and security agencies of the world's governments." Stephen nodded. "I imagine ours are very similar. Regardless, we started keeping an ear on the ground for signs of him that the drew attention of a handful of governments.

"We quickly discovered that within the course of a month, uranium had been stolen from seven nuclear plants across four countries— though the individual countries, while allies, weren't telling each other about the thefts yet," he added somewhat dryly. "From what we found, the only thing they were able to capture on film was a shadowy figure."

Stephen frowned. "Some sort of concealment spell? We cannot trick cameras, only the eyes of the people watching. Did you see any of the footage?"

He nodded. "Eventually I did. It was a spell of some sort, but not one I have seen in person. It looked Atlantean in nature."

A nauseous feeling stirred at the bottom of his stomach again. "What the hell is he doing?" he muttered.

"Gathering sources of raw energy, but for what purpose beyond what he stated to us last year, I have no idea," Wong answered. "I don't know entirely what sort of energy he thinks he can draw from uranium, but I believe he is clever enough to devise modified spellwork to potentially use their energy with enough practice." He exhaled, then continued, "About eight months ago, it was a whistleblower in France that told the press that three power plants in the country were missing uranium. It soon got out that there was some missing from several countries over the last few months, though the public has no idea just how much has been stolen."

"It didn't seem like they knew who did it, either, from what I remember reading," Stephen said. "Do the intelligence communities know who this shadowy figure is? I can't imagine there's much detail to draw from."

He shook his head. "There were accusations for a little while against the so-called 'Rogue Avengers', those who fled after the entire issue with the Accords, but the complete lack of evidence closed it down. The US has creatively dubbed the thief as 'The Shadow'." Stephen snorted. "Once that news story broke out, the uranium thefts stopped for a time. Instead we saw three suddenly-dormant volcanoes and the vibranium stolen from CERN, though no one seems to have connected those issues to the missing uranium."

Wong took another drink from his cup. "The situation did change a bit about six months ago."

Stephen wracked his brain. "Was that… that was when Stark Industries was hit, right?" With the casualties. He kept his eyes on his tea so he did not tempt himself to reach for his phone to look it all up. Wong would tell him all he needed to know.

"Yes. What do you know about it?"

"I only read a couple summaries back when I first arrived— that their headquarters in Los Angeles had several arc reactors stolen and that there was one dead and several injured, including three critically. I never looked further into it after I saw what happened to the Sanctums and Kamar-Taj."

"Perhaps that's for the best." At his confused look, Wong explained, "From what I understand, the arc reactors in LA are stored in the same area as their research labs, which naturally has the highest level of security. A significant presentation was taking place in one of the labs when Strange came."

His brow furrowed. "That late at night?"

"She was apparently just back from Japan and wanted to get it out of the way before jet lag hit." At his look, Wong clarified, "According to the intelligence reports."

"And who was this 'she'?"

"Stark Industries' CEO, Pepper Potts." A pause. "And fiance of Tony Stark."

Stephen leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. "'Perhaps for the best', indeed," he muttered. He exhaled slowly and looked back at Wong. "Was she the one who…"

"No. But she was one of the critically injured. To this day she lies in a coma."

He swallowed heavily. "God." He stared into his teacup for a wordless minute. "And Stark? From what I've read of him in this universe, this seems like something he would look into."

"With all the time and energy he could give it," Wong confirmed. "We actually have someone in Stark Industries close enough to Stark to get decent information on the situation."

"Seriously? How?"

"She lived in Kamar-Taj for a year in her early adulthood. She didn't take well to magic, but the disciplined life helped reform her; she was rather troubled when she got here. Promised the Ancient One that she would always be available to help and kept in contact with several sorcerers over the years. She's been our eyes and ears with the Avengers for some time now."

"Huh. Well, what's the story?"

Wong finished his tea and set the empty cup on the table. "Once Miss Potts was stable, he threw himself into figuring out who was behind the theft. This was the first time there were witnesses to the crime; furthermore, Strange was definitely not expecting them to be present, for he had to partially drop whatever spell he casts upon himself to shadow his body to instead fight their security off. According to our informant, footage managed to capture a couple stills of part of his facial features."

Stephen pressed his lips together. "And from your earlier hints, it sounds like he figured out that it was my counterpart."

A sharp nod. "Three months ago. He had already connected Strange to the missing uranium and vibranium— not a difficult leap, considering his unique method of thievery. It wasn't difficult to verify; there were reports of Stark in Kathmandu for three days about that time."

"That's where my paper trail ended," he murmured. "It makes sense. If Kamar-Taj was not removed from the physical plane, I imagine he may have found it."

"Possibly," said Wong. "We also know that he has been studying the energy expelled by Strange's spellwork in the fight at Stark Industries to try and figure out a cure for Miss Potts as well as to try and track Strange down."

He blinked. "I'm sorry, a cure?"

"Apparently the doctors believe that the reason she remains in a coma is related to the magic that hit her."

He slowly exhaled. "It's a good thing I was within the Sanctum's concealment when I first saw Stark," he muttered. "I would probably be in some CIA black site otherwise."

"You could have beaten Stark," Wong retorted, causing Stephen to slightly smile. His host took both cups and stood. "The easy chair reclines. I will get you a blanket."

"I don't think I'll be getting any sleep tonight," he confessed.

"Try," was the reply. "It's going to be a busy day tomorrow." At the questioning look, Wong clarified, "It's best to tell the other Masters about you sooner rather than later and get it over with."

He couldn't argue against that logic.

A bit over an hour later found Stephen climbing up the winding road that led to the top of the fortress. This close he could see that the foundations were at least a few hundred years old, though he could not begin to guess as to their true age. The structures within the compound had clearly been rebuilt and updated over the course of time.

One of its newest additions seemed to be the winding road that curved its way around and through the other buildings to make its way to the top of the hill. Unfortunately this road was entirely open with no cover to speak of, leaving absolutely no chance of a stealthy entrance.

Of course, Strange was not likely expecting anyone to just walk up to the front door, so perhaps this was the best approach in this case.

If he was really lucky, Strange wouldn't be around at all, giving him a chance to locate and transport as much of the uranium as possible to Wong to the location they chose for this purpose. If he was really, really, really lucky, he'd even get a chance to move magical items or other items of importance that could tell them more about what his ultimate plans were.

He did know, from both what Wong told him and his own study of magic, that the moment he did use any spells, it was very likely that Strange would immediately come. What he was currently counting on was the man's ego; after being actively hunted by Iron Man for nearly six months (nine months if one counted the time before he knew his identity) with no report of being able to actually find him, he was counting on his counterpart failing to put any sort of spells that alerted him of all breaches into his hideout, as opposed to magical ones alone. It's a mistake he could see himself doing without this experience behind him.

Stephen's plan relied entirely too much on luck, he knew, but if he could accomplish some sort of good before his end, then he could die— not happy, not really content, but at least a little bit satisfied that he did some real good against a man that should have never made the decisions he made.

A/N: Tony's a huge womanizer in the comics throughout a lot of his history and that, along with the MCU's pre-kidnapped Tony and the musings behind how this prompt could work by amethyst-noir, helped craft the evil version of the character.

The fortress that stands on the outskirts of Novi Grad, Sokovia in Age of Ultron (where the scepter was rescued from at the beginning of the film) was represented by Fort Bard in Bard, Italy, if you would like to Google for further visualizations of the millennium-old fortress.