Something was wrong with the Realm Crystal.

It was hot. Too hot and too cold. Much too cold. It crackled and sparked in his hands, his own Elemental Powers churning and raging almost painfully.

Continuously falling through portal after portal was painful. Excruciating depending where he landed. It ripped at him, tearing his being apart, unraveling his tissues and organs and skin before slamming him back together again as he hit the ground, groaning and sprained. Sometimes Lloyd wasn't sure if still had everything inside him. Sometimes it felt like his lungs were never put back together correctly or his heart was just a little too far to the left.

Morro was never in that position. He was dead. He had no ribs to bruise.

The crystal burned in his hands, and tingled raw against his fingers. Crackling magic hummed so loudly it felt like his ears were bleeding. Who knows—maybe they already were.

Morro snarled and lunged, dust kicked up in his wake. Unnatural wind pulling him forward.

Lloyd jumped to his aching feet and stumbled away, the noxious air of the place making it hard to breathe. Lloyd dove to the side, wheezing. It smelt like death.

"Coward!" Morro's form wavered, flickering as his eyes glowed with vile green and corrupted magic. His clawed hand swiped at Lloyd, the hands were almost solid and Lloyd couldn't breathe. "You never deserved to be the Green Ninja—Wu never should have picked you—!" Morro shrieked, his ghostly form shedding humanity as his anger grew.

Lloyd was terrified.

He could feel it. Feel Morro and the winds he controlled. He could feel them clawing into him, sharp and cold. He could still feel the rotten traces of Morro's soul that clung to his bones and gnawed at his own soul. It hurt. He could feel Morro's memories, pain and hunger and hurt and betrayal and anger. So, so much anger.

It hurt to think.

It hurt to breathe.

Lloyd desperately shook his head and pulled at the magic of the crystal, his vision was black the edges, something was crawl along his skin, he just had to get out—away from Morro–away from—

Lloyd fell.

Magic pulled and crackled and tore and everything hurt. He held the Crystal tighter, the something inside him crying out as he was pulled through time and colors and space and something so very black he couldn't open his eyes without losing the dregs of sanity he clung to and—

He can't, he can't, he can't—

Something was different—

He can't, he can't, he can't, hE CAN'T—

Something was wrong with the Realm Crystal—

HE CAN'T, HE CAN'T, HE CAN'T, HE CAN'T, HE CAN'T—!

Something was—

HE CAN'T, HE CAN'T, HE CAN'T, HE CAN'THECAN'THECAN'THECAN'THE CAN'THECAN'THECAN'THECAN'THECAN'THECAN'THE CAN'THECAN'THECAN'THECAN'THECAN'THECAN'THE CAN'THECAN'THECAN'THECAN'THECAN'THECAN'THE CAN'THECAN'THECAN'T—

Lloyd fell out of the air, crashing onto something, clatters and clangs and pots and plants and wood beams and metal things and candles and books and too many glass things. Lloyd fell and hit head and rolled to a stop. Lloyd shook as he stood, something warm soaking through his gi and dripping down his face. His ankles hurt. Glass crunched under his feet and something ricocheted off his head and thunked somewhere to his side but he couldn't—

Where was—

Where was Morro—

Where—

There were shelves, lots and lots of shelves. Filled with pots and statues and balls and candles and books. Everything was covered in years old dust and—

There were so many things. His head buzzed painfully and every bone in him screamed. Something was wrong, something was very, very wrong and Morro was—

Morro was…

Lloyd turned around, looking for the vengeful spirit.

Nowhere to be seen—

"Hello,"

Lloyd just about jumped out of his skin.

He spun around, nearly tripping over himself in the process, more glass crunching under his feet.

There…there was a man. Floating…A red cap billowing around him, robes and sashes and a large complicated gold pendant tied together to form a mystical appearance. He had a neatly trimmed bread and wide set eyes. Lloyd's powers sung and cried under his skin and in his bones, they whispered and spoke to him, telling him about this man. He was powerful, skilled and knowledgeable. Dangerous. (Too many whispers and not enough of nothing for him to really know what was happening.)

He was looking at Lloyd with worry. (But no recognition.)

Lloyd's legs shook, and the sticky warmth continued to spread across his side. His heart was beating in his ears and he's pretty sure had glass in his hands.

Where…where was he?

(::)

Doctor Steven Strange was no stranger to meeting new people.

But this stranger, this…boy, who couldn't be older than sixteen, had fallen through a vortex and crashed into the Scantum, a place that wasn't found unless it desired to be and he made quite the mess because of his fall.

Though…it…wasn't a very kind fall.

He was shaking, curling in on himself. Obviously in pain, blood soaking through his uniform, blood matted in his white-blond curls. There were cuts everywhere and with the way he was favoring one leg, it might've been broken.

And he couldn't be older than sixteen.

Peter's age.

Oh.

He was staring at Steven. His green eyes were wary and scattered. He might've been concussed as well.

The kid's eyes darted around, breathing too quickly. His eyes settled back on Steven, eyes hardening. His stance settled into a defensively trained maneuver, tense as much as he could be.

"Who are you?" His voice was firm, authoritative. Commanding.

…

Scared.

Steven wanted to frown. Where did this…well not child—but teenager, come from?

"I'm Doctor Steven Strange," He felt a bit too formal, and the words came out warm, if not a little flat. He was nervous and confused, but he wanted to help. "But you can call me Doctor Strange," Steven offered him a smile, hoping it would relax him. "And you are?"

The boy's mouth turned into a hard line, eyes searching Steven's face. "...Llo–" He stopped, eyes narrowing. Steven could see him thinking. One of his hands clenching and unclenching. His eyes flicked around the crash zone, before zeroing in on Steven with a determination that was hard-won and cynical. "...The…Green Ninja,"

It had weight. The name, no—it was a title. Steven recognized it as a given title and not something the boy chose himself. The title had so much weight to it. The words were heavy, heavy with meaning and purpose. And there was more to it. There was a second part. The Green Ninja didn't sound complete, there was something else to it. Something The Green Ninja wasn't saying.

And then there was the first thing he said. The unfinished name. It started with an L. And…an 'oo' sound.

The Green Ninja was still watching him, still searching him with his eyes. He was waiting, expecting something.

After a moment, he frowned, looking away, mumbling to himself. His face twisted and blood started to drip from his clenched hands. The green and gold uniform—it was a gi, now that he looked at it closer—was being soaked through.

"Here," Steven stepped forward and The Green Ninja couldn't suppress his flinch. "Let me help,"

The Green Ninja leaned away, stumbling against the shell. It creaked under his weight and something tipped and began to fall. The boy's eyes widened, and Steven pulled on his abilities.

It stopped mid air, golden runes and magics holding it firmly in place.

The Green Ninja blinked. Staring at the magic, then turned to Steven, staring. Then stared back at the magic. His mouth opened and closed. A childish thoughtfulness and curiosity shining through his defensive exterior.

"You—" He swallowed, his face pinching with pain. "You're an Elemental Master?"

…Elemental Master?

Steven hummed. Swirling his fingers, the fallen vase floating back to its spot on the second-to-top shelf. The boy's eyebrows furrowed at the display of power, a shaking hand reaching up to put pressure on his wound, almost absentmindedly.

"No, I am not an Elemental Master," Steven took slow steps forward, reaching a hand out. "But I can help you,"

The blond's mouth opened, before quivering closed. He stared long and hard at Steven's hand. He glanced around again, looking for something. He screwed his eyes shut, mumbling again to himself. He opened his eyes and Steven swore he saw them glow. His eyes flicked between Steven's hand and face.

He sighed, deflating. A heavy tiredness crushing his shoulders. "Fine,"

Steven's mouth twitched into a frown. The boy didn't take his hand but he did follow, however hesitantly, behind Steven. Wary emerald-gold eyes glaring and examining every corner he could see. Occasionally looking at Steven himself.

It could have been curiosity or trained cautiousness. It could have been both. But it didn't seem like both. It seemed like he was looking for something. Or someone. Anxious and vigilant about what or whoever that was.

The Green Ninja fake coughed, sheepish expression blooming the farther they walked.

"Hey uh—" The kid winced, nervousness in his step. "I'm…I'm sorry for breaking your stuff,"

Steven smiled, he was a bit upset about it, but it wasn't like it was the kid's fault. He probably didn't choose to be flung out of a vortex and crash into the Sanctum's many artifacts. "It's alright—those things were pretty old anyway," They were magic, most of them would rebuild themselves and they could do without most of them anyway. They could always be remade and re-enchanted. There was nothing that couldn't be fixed or replaced or missed dearly.

It wasn't a problem.

A ghost of a smile flickered across the boy's lips. He nodded, and continued looking around. He was relaxing but still not completely.

Steven hummed and continued into the Scantum.

Hopefully he could get his name and figure out where and how he came here. It was powerful magic from what he saw. Ancient and uncontrolled.

Steven caught another glance of his glowing eyes.

Steven had a feeling the story would be very interesting.