.
**One Year Later.**
Kamar-Taj had changed. Or perhaps, it was Mark who had.
The bells in the towers still rang the same way every dawn. The winds still carried whispers from the mountains. The courtyard stones still held memories of every spar, every step, every sleepless night.
But now, Mark moved like he belonged.
Gone was the wide-eyed newcomer who had barely understood the Sling Ring. In his place stood a sorcerer who could manipulate energy with *deliberate grace*, hands dancing with purpose—not flair.
And beside him, always, was Wong.
Their partnership had evolved into something rare: a **mutual sharpening**, each learning from the other. Wong brought discipline, vast knowledge, and structure. Mark brought intuition, creativity, and unconventional application.
Together, they had built a language of magic that extended far beyond battle.
---
**In the Meditation Hall**
Wong stood before a wall of glyphs, weaving strands of golden light between symbols in the air. The runes pulsed gently, syncing with his breath.
Mark sat cross-legged a few feet away, hands resting palm-up, drawing in ambient energy and focusing it into a delicate illusion—a bird of starlight perched on his finger, flapping its wings silently.
Both of them were still. Focused. Balanced.
"You've refined your mental shielding spell," Wong said, eyes closed. "I can't feel a single stray thought."
Mark nodded. "Even under emotional pressure. I tested it during a dream last night."
Wong opened his eyes. "Your construct shaping is also cleaner. Fewer energy leaks."
Mark smirked. "Yours are more stable. I still can't hold shields and weapons at once without some drift."
Wong allowed a rare smile. "But you built a construct arm last week. That shouldn't be possible without at least a decade of training."
Mark shrugged. "I study late."
Wong crossed the chamber and sat beside him. "You've gone far beyond the average adept. But you're still not dangerous enough to scare Mordo."
"I don't want to scare Mordo," Mark said. "I want to outgrow him."
Wong chuckled softly. "Then keep going."
---
**Their Magic Had Grown in All Directions**
* **Energy Constructs**: Mark could summon not just shields and whips, but fine-tuned tools—keys, grappling lines, lanterns. He'd even made a construct mirror that stored light like a memory.
* **Mental Wards**: His mind was protected by reinforced spells that looped back on themselves, disguising his magical signature. He could sleep in astral projection while guarding his physical self.
* **Everyday Magic**: From conjuring pure water to repairing broken scrolls to levitating spices for cooking, Mark wove sorcery into the daily rhythm of life. Magic was not just a weapon. It was *a lifestyle*.
* **Dimensional Theory**: Though he had yet to fully master Mirror Dimension manipulation, he understood how to observe rifts, stabilize small tears, and detect magical interference in space-time.
Wong, for his part, had grown immensely. With Mark challenging him in theory and application, his own control of raw energy had become almost poetic—spells cast with minimal movement, layered effects that flowed like water. He was still stronger, still more experienced, but **the gap was closing.**
---
**Evening on the Rooftop**
The two sat beneath the stars, sipping warm tea conjured from enchanted kettles.
Mark exhaled slowly. "I keep thinking… the old timeline—the one I came from—there were patterns. Deaths that mattered. Turning points. I still don't know how much we're allowed to change."
Wong was quiet a long moment.
Then: "That's the wrong question."
Mark looked over. "What should I be asking?"
Wong's voice was calm, but firm. "*What are you willing to be responsible for if you change something?*"
Silence fell between them.
Then the wind picked up, carrying the faint sound of a distant bell.
Mark stood. "Strange should be arriving soon."
Wong nodded. "And when he does?"
"I won't stop him from becoming who he's meant to be," Mark said. "But I'll make sure he doesn't have to figure it all out alone."