CHAPTER 2

“I'm covered in the foul stench of dark magic!” shouted Doctor Strange, brushing himself off. He'd returned home with many questions. Someone was using magic for evil purposes, and he intended to find out who.

Doctor Strange's home, the Sanctum Sanctorum, was an enchanted mansion on a quiet street in Manhattan's Greenwich Village. No one would ever suspect it was filled with mysteries. Doctor Strange felt quite at home among its many magical curiosities.

As he made his way down a long hallway toward the library, he passed numerous mystical wonders. Each door in the Sanctum led to a different realm—some of them peaceful, some of them dangerous. Opening the wrong one could unleash a fleet of tentacled demons or the restless spirits of the undead.

“By the Vishanti!” exclaimed Doctor Strange as a small beastie scurried across his feet. The Sanctum also played host to bizarre creatures from time to time. At last Strange arrived at the library and was greeted by his comrade and faithful assistant, Wong.

“Wong, one of the naked soul rats has gotten loose,” said Doctor Strange. “I thought we'd gotten them all since their invasion. See that it's found and disposed of properly. It's very dangerous to have such a creature running around.”

“I'll put on my haunted gloves and look for it after lunch,” said Wong, sighing. “Welcome home, Stephen. How was the mall?”

Wong knew Doctor Strange better than anyone. They'd been confidants for many years, and Wong was always there to listen or offer advice when the world of magic was too much for Doctor Strange to handle. Wong was also an expert martial artist and master of all trades who cataloged Doctor Strange's many magical artifacts from across the multiverse.

“Something bad is happening, Wong. The world of magic is in danger. Dark forces are at work, and I must find the source before it's too late!” declared a frustrated Doctor Strange.

“I hope you didn't track ectoplasm across the floor when you arrived,” said Wong. “I just cleaned all the rugs by hand.” Wong was also the Sanctum's housekeeper.

“No, no, no,” muttered Doctor Strange under his breath. It had been a long day, and he was getting extremely cranky. Strange's Cloak of Levitation whipped off of his body and hung itself neatly on a coat-rack nearby as he began searching the bookshelves for information that could help.

“Relax. Take a hot bath. Are you hungry?” asked Wong. “I made some soup.” Wong made a very tasty chicken noodle soup.

Strange wasn't having any of it. “I don't have time for baths and soup!” he exclaimed, furiously scanning his library. With so much information at his disposal, surely he'd be able to find the answers to his questions.

An idea occurred to him. “I must travel to the Astral Plane and speak with my mentor, the Ancient One. He'll be able to tell me about these dimensional fluctuations.”

The Astral Plane was an alternate dimension beyond the earth, filled with magical energies both light and dark. To reach the Astral Plane, a magician must separate mind from body through a process called astral projection. It required focus and concentration.

Doctor Strange sat, legs crossed, in the middle of the room. He closed his eyes tightly, took two deep breaths, and cleared his mind. His journey to the spirit world had begun.

“Be careful,” warned Wong.

“I'm always careful,” Doctor Strange assured him as his glowing blue spirit left his physical body and rose into the air.

Wong left Strange to his business. “I'll go see if I can find that soul rat,” he said, leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

“Welcome, Stephen. It's been a long time. You're looking agitated,” said the Ancient One, joining Doctor Strange on the Astral Plane. The Ancient One was a powerful magician of the highest order. He had been the Sorcerer Supreme before Doctor Strange inherited the title. When the Ancient One's mortal body passed on, his spirit moved to the Astral Plane for all eternity. Now whenever Doctor Strange needed advice, he visited his former instructor. They had an amiable but complicated relationship.

“I have no time for small talk. I need your guidance, Ancient One. Magic is being used unnaturally. Evil forces are at work,” explained Doctor Strange. “What do you know of it?”

“Hmmm. You have many tools at your disposal. Look at all these spell books and enchanted weapons,” the Ancient One said. “Why not use them?”

“I will,” answered Strange. “But first I need help in finding the source of these troubles. I can sense danger, but I don't know where it's coming from.”

“You have many enemies,” offered the Ancient One.

“This is true. Loki could be a suspect, though the creatures I fought today aren't his style,” said Strange. “I need more information.”

“Have you tried asking your friends for assistance?” inquired the Ancient One. Doctor Strange bristled at the question.

“The Avengers are brightly colored Super Heroes whom I greatly respect,” Strange explained, “but they don't understand the world of magic as I do. And I prefer to work alone.”

The Ancient One eyed Strange's brightly colored Cloak of Levitation and let out a hearty chuckle. “Ha-ha! Says the man with the dramatic living cape.” He smirked. “I wasn't referring to the Avengers. Friends come in many shapes and sizes. You may need some in the near future.”

Doctor Strange disagreed. “I prefer to handle issues of magic by myself!” he demanded. “I come to you with important questions, and you answer me in riddles!”

“Calm yourself, master of the mystic arts. The Astral Plane is crawling with spirits who would take advantage of your emotion,” warned the Ancient One. “You face many enemies, Stephen. Look around you and remain guarded. Life is a journey. Be patient and careful.”

The Ancient One's spirit disappeared, and Doctor Strange was left alone on the Astral Plane. He thought his wise mentor would give him answers, but Strange was just left with more questions. As he prepared to return to the Earthly Plane, he sensed something was wrong. The Astral Plane grew cold, and a shiver shot up his spine. He was not alone.