Despite Dormammu's apparent destruction, Lin Fan knew the truth.
The dark god wasn't dead.
That form—massive and terrifying—was only an echo. A fragment. A projection of Dormammu's will through the unstable rift Lin Fan had opened. The real Dormammu still existed, fused entirely with the Dark Dimension itself. As long as that realm remained, so did he.
And yet, what Lin Fan had done wasn't insignificant.
His tenfold blast hadn't just destroyed a clone—it had erased a shard of Dormammu's consciousness. Something the Ancient One hadn't accomplished in centuries of battle.
Now, Lin Fan had Dormammu's full attention. And hatred.
---
The remnants of the Dark Mirror Realm faded, and with Dormammu's projection annihilated, peace returned—temporarily.
Lin Fan stood in silence as the sky returned to its natural color. The dust had settled, but the weight of what had just happened lingered in the air.
Across from him, the Ancient One hovered above the fractured ground. She was visibly weakened, her form steady only through sheer will. But her eyes—clear, calculating—were locked on Lin Fan.
"Impressive," she said. "Even I've never inflicted that kind of damage on Dormammu."
Her voice was steady, but behind it was something deeper. Appraisal. Calculation. A centuries-old protector staring down the unknown.
"I need to know one thing," she continued. "What do you want?"
He tilted his head slightly. "Want?"
"You didn't destroy Dormammu's avatar for glory. And you're not a native to this universe. So why are you here? What's your purpose?"
There was no hostility in her voice—just the weight of responsibility.
Lin Fan shrugged casually. "I'm just here to live my life. Maybe shake things up a little."
The Ancient One narrowed her gaze.
"That's vague. And dangerous."
"Only if you get in my way," he replied, blunt but not aggressive. "I'm not here to wreck your world, unless it tries to wreck me first."
A long silence followed.
Then her gaze dropped—just for a moment—to the glowing pendant around her neck. The Eye of Agamotto. The housing of the Time Stone.
She knew what was coming before he said it.
"That artifact," Lin Fan said, pointing at the Eye, "interests me."
"I imagined it would."
She didn't move.
"This is not just a relic," she said firmly. "It controls time itself. In the wrong hands, it could collapse the multiverse. Why should I even consider letting you near it?"
"I just flattened your biggest enemy," Lin Fan said. "Doesn't that earn me a little trust?"
"Not trust," she replied. "Consideration."
She studied him—his energy, his confidence, the absence of malice despite his overwhelming power.
"If you wanted to take it by force, you would've done so already. So tell me... what do you truly intend to do with the Time Stone?"
Lin Fan was quiet for a moment. Then:
"I don't know yet," he admitted. "But I know I'll need it. There are things coming… and I plan to stand at the top when they do."
A flash of tension crossed her face. Not fear—concern.
But in the end, she made a choice.
"I'm not giving you the Time Stone," she said. "But I'll give you the chance to earn it."
She removed the Eye of Agamotto from her neck and held it out—not glowing, not unsealed, but still pulsing faintly with power.
"If the Eye accepts you, it will open on its own. If it doesn't, you'll get nothing."
"No strings?"
"Only one," she said. "One year. Return to Kamar-Taj. If the Eye hasn't accepted you by then, I'll take it back."
Lin Fan approached and took the relic carefully. The moment it touched his skin, the casing shimmered—just slightly.
The Ancient One's eyes widened.
But a moment later, the glow faded.
Dormant again.
Lin Fan slipped the Eye around his neck. "Guess we'll see."
"Good luck," she said, and with a flick of her hand, opened a swirling golden portal.
Just before she stepped through, she turned back.
"You're not what I expected. That makes you dangerous."
He smiled. "Only if I have to be."
And with that, the Sorcerer Supreme disappeared into the portal—leaving Lin Fan alone with a relic of unimaginable power and a future that had just become far more uncertain.
---