New York City, already far from peaceful, was descending further into chaos. Yet, people gradually noticed an unexpected sanctuary: the area surrounding the Weyland Tower. Unlike other places, safety seemed almost guaranteed there. The alien creatures, rather than indiscriminately killing, had become nocturnal sentinels—guardians that, in a twisted sense, provided a strange kind of reassurance.
Some individuals, frequently peering through binoculars at the tower's glass windows, often caught glimpses of alien figures moving within. This suggested that the creatures were scattered across every floor of the building.
Over time, a few devoted followers of Duncan mustered the courage to settle nearby. Weyland himself continued hiring construction teams, legally purchasing land and rapidly developing the surrounding area. Of course, legality was a mere formality—given Duncan's influence, simply making a request for land was enough to ensure compliance. And beyond power, Duncan possessed something even more valuable than money: longevity.
Countless people coveted the aliens, hoping to harness them for their secretions—potentially the key to longevity drugs. Yet, so far, no one had succeeded. Those who tried met gruesome deaths.
Capturing one alive? Impossible. Unless Duncan explicitly commanded otherwise, the aliens fought to the death. At worst, they would self-destruct; surrender was not in their nature.
However, people soon realized that Duncan's faction had become eerily efficient at capturing targets alive. It was a stark contrast to the past. Previously, even hunting vampires resulted in bloodbaths—severed limbs and gory remains everywhere. To prevent resistance or suicide, the aliens would first remove a vampire's limbs, bringing back only the intact torso and head for parasitic conversion.
Now, things had changed.
The difference was a new figure in Duncan's ranks: a psychic master named Druid. His presence eliminated the need for such crude methods.
As Elektra and Daredevil stepped out of Weyland Tower, discussing how to track down Stick, they saw a procession approaching. A few aliens flanked the group, ensuring their passage.
"Look at their fangs—definitely vampires. Are they out of their minds? Surrendering to Duncan willingly?"
"Their eyes… they look empty, like they've been scared stiff. I've never seen vampires like this before, and there are so many of them."
Murmurs spread through the onlookers.
Thanks to Duncan, the existence of vampires was no secret. The people of New York weren't blind; they saw the aliens prowling the city daily.
Even gods and superhumans had fallen to Duncan, so the constant vampire hunts hardly seemed unusual anymore.
"This is Druid's doing," Elektra said after a glance. "Only he has this level of psychic power."
"A man who can control over twenty vampires at once… He must be utterly devoted to Duncan. Otherwise, he wouldn't betray his own kind so completely," Daredevil muttered.
"You don't understand," Elektra replied, giving him an odd look. "For Druid, the best solution to any problem is making everyone one of us—alive or dead."
A chill ran down Daredevil's spine.
As Elektra had pointed out, Druid was relentless—bordering on fanatical.
To him, closing his eyes even briefly felt like being immersed in a world of pure consciousness—a paradise of untainted minds. He was utterly enthralled by it. And he desperately wanted to bring others into this bliss, by any means necessary.
Yes, literally.
Alive or dead, it made no difference. As long as they died the right way—chest torn open—Druid saw it as a step toward enlightenment.
What greater honor than to be reborn as a pure consciousness, eternally guarding Duncan?
Druid firmly believed this.
And so, he roamed New York with a pack of aliens, relentlessly hunting down vampires.
With Elektra away searching for Stick and the Sorcerer Supreme, Druid took full charge of the extermination efforts.
New York's last remaining vampires, long hiding in the shadows, were now utterly exposed. Against Druid's psychic prowess, resistance was futile. Inevitably, they would "willingly" march to Weyland Tower, offering their bodies for the cause.
Yet, as Druid continued his mental sweep of the city, he grew agitated. He craved Duncan's approval—especially praise on a psychic level.
Were it not for Duncan's restraint, he might have already begun converting ordinary humans into vampires, just to provide more hosts for the aliens.
"Hmm? A black magic coven?"
Druid had stumbled upon a gathering of dark sorcerers.
Despite his relentless cleansing efforts, the city was vast, and its population enormous. No matter how many he eliminated, there were always new schemers taking advantage of the chaos.
If capturing vampires was one thing, dealing with dark sorcerers was another entirely—killing them was the best option.
Without hesitation, Druid launched an attack on the hideout.
Waiting for him was a group of over ten well-prepared sorcerers. At their head stood a man with an eerie smile—one that sent a rare, unsettling feeling through Druid.
"Lord Kaecilius, that's the one," a sorcerer reported. "The traitor who serves Duncan. He's nearly wiped out every vampire in New York."
If Kaecilius had any other choice, he wouldn't have wanted to fight.
The power of the mind radiated outward, drawing attention.
The Eternals—of course, Kaecilius knew about them. But precisely because he knew, he was even more curious as to why Druig would choose to side with Duncan in such a mad endeavor—and with such dedication.
"Who are you?" Druig asked coldly, staring at Kaecilius.
Kaecilius scrutinized Druig with a dangerous gaze. "A pilgrim in pursuit of truth. And you, old man? A coward who fled the battlefield, clinging to a wretched existence?"
"A person like you dares to speak of truth?" Druig shifted his gaze.
"Of course. Since you can pledge allegiance to Duncan, why not serve the great Dormammu instead? He will grant you eternal life, freeing this world from regret and despair—only eternity shall remain," Kaecilius declared.
As Druig observed Kaecilius's expression and posture, a sense of familiarity struck him. He pondered for a moment before realizing—when he spoke of Duncan, he too had looked like this. More importantly, this fool was speaking of "truth," yet all he preached was the banality of eternal life.
"I am already near-immortal. Why would I seek eternal life from Dormammu? And who is he, anyway? Some feeble, dull, false god?"
For years, under Ajak's leadership, he had only hunted the Deviants and avoided contact with other superhumans whenever possible.
Druig looked at Kaecilius impatiently. "What you take pride in is worthless in my eyes. A fool like you dares to call Dormammu the embodiment of truth?"
"You know nothing of Dormammu's power and grandeur. You've lived on this planet for thousands of years, yet at best, you're just an old, gilded canary." Kaecilius's gaze turned icy. "Then tell me—what is truth?"
"Without a doubt, Duncan."
"Duncan? Are you insane? A noble Eternal like you singing praises of an ordinary human?"
"It doesn't matter if you don't understand. Once you turn into an Aberration, you will." A deep killing intent flashed in Druig's eyes. He could tolerate personal insults, but this bastard had just insulted Duncan. That could not be forgiven.
To a pilgrim, an insult to their faith was a blood feud.
Kaecilius sneered. "I could say the same—once you become one of us."
He wasn't interested in Druig himself but rather the Aberration embryo inside him.
An incomplete Aberration, one that hadn't yet burst from its host—perhaps exactly what Dormammu needed. But then again, Druig himself was an extremely rare offering.
If he could offer Druig—a creation of the Celestials—along with the Aberration embryo, Dormammu would surely be pleased. And when Dormammu was pleased, he would grant Kaecilius even greater power, advancing the plan to devour Earth.
Right now, Kaecilius was in severe pain. His body was in poor condition and in dire need of Dormammu's restoration.
Without further words, the two clashed instantly.
Druig attempted to invade Kaecilius's mind with his psychic abilities, but Kaecilius raised a hand and grabbed a black sorcerer, using them as a shield. At the same time, he lashed out with an energy whip, sending Druig flying. In the next moment, he unleashed a blast of dark magic.
Several black sorcerers fell under Druig's control and turned against Kaecilius, trying to interfere with his movements.
"Control me at will? When it comes to dark magic, I am second only to the Ancient One."
Kaecilius let out a sinister laugh. Dark mist surged around him, expanding instantly. Within moments, he had knocked down several black sorcerers and spread his power throughout the stronghold, slaughtering over a dozen Aberrations.
Druig furrowed his brow, his expression turning serious. He realized this man was overwhelmingly powerful.
He had been in seclusion for six hundred years, disconnected from the world. Six hundred years—longer than the Ancient One had lived.
As black sorcerers and Aberrations fell one after another, Kaecilius's grin grew more and more twisted. He was steadily pushing Druig into a corner.
"I only need to guard my mind. In dark magic, many spells use pain to reinforce mental resilience. Not to mention, I can wield white magic as well."
Kaecilius conjured a protective barrier of golden threads around his head, repeatedly blocking Druig's psychic invasions.
Druig came to a grim realization—he was not Kaecilius's match.
Even with his relatively weak physical endurance, Kaecilius had mastered powerful defensive spells, allowing him to coat his body in magical armor.
After all, Kaecilius had once been the Ancient One's top disciple and was now Dormammu's most devoted servant. Defeating someone like Druig was hardly a challenge.
But Druig didn't see it that way. He knew little of Dormammu and had no real understanding of the ruler of the Dark Dimension. Even of the Ancient One, he knew almost nothing.
The longer the fight went on, the more passive Druig became. Kaecilius's relentless, powerful magic gradually boxed him in, cutting off his escape routes, forcing him toward inevitable doom.
One by one, Aberrations died before Druig's eyes, filling him with rage.
He watched as chains of intertwined black and white magic tore through their bodies, linking them together.
If things continued as they were, Druig would soon be among them.
But in the next second, a terrifying golden beam of energy descended from the sky, carrying enough destructive force to level an entire city.
Countless golden lightning bolts crackled outward in all directions.
"I flew over the moment I got the order. Kaecilius, you damned bastard—Duncan has had his eyes on you for a long time. This time, I've been given a direct order to eliminate you."
Hovering in midair, Reynolds smirked as he looked down at Kaecilius.
Ever since defeating Magneto and the Eternals, Reynolds had been searching for stronger opponents—he wanted to establish his place in the food chain of Earth's powerhouses.
If he didn't challenge the strong, how could he prove his own strength? And if he didn't prove his strength, how could he earn the awe and admiration of the world? Without that recognition, life felt unbearable to him.
Reynolds surveyed the battlefield, glancing at the magical chains that had pierced numerous Aberrations. He let out a deep, menacing chuckle, his body trembling slightly.
Golden energy burst outward as he raised his head, his eyes turning completely gold.
In an instant, he unleashed a devastating heat vision attack. The energy beams clashed against the magic particles, slicing through the countless chains that bound the Aberrations.
"Robert Reynolds… The one who defeated Magneto."
Kaecilius's brows furrowed slightly.
He could tell—Reynolds was nothing like Druig. This would be troublesome.
"Duncan sensed that you were in danger, so he ordered me to come and handle it," Reynolds explained casually.
To an outsider, this statement wouldn't seem unusual—one subordinate is in trouble, so their superior deploys another to assist.
But to Druig, it was different.
"I never told anyone, yet he still knew… I understand now. He's using the Xenomorphs to achieve instant perception and communication. This is the hive mind of the Xenomorph collective."
Reynolds, standing beside him, shot Druig a cautious glance. Druig's expression had suddenly turned terrifying—a look of pure, fanatical devotion, as if he had fully committed himself to a higher mission.
Reynolds wasn't good at dealing with people like that. He simply couldn't comprehend Druig's thought process.
Then again, most people couldn't understand Reynolds' own eccentric mindset either.
In contrast, Reynolds found Kaecilius far more agreeable—at least with him, he could fight without restraint. Killing him wouldn't matter in the slightest.
Now, how should he deal with these two? Druig was manageable, but Reynolds was proving to be a real challenge, practically without weakness.
Should he just unleash his most powerful magic and blast them both into dust? But his body hadn't fully recovered—if he went all out, he might end up incapacitated for a while.
That would displease Dormammu. And Kaecilius knew one thing for sure—Dormammu was neither patient nor kind. He was violent, ruthless, and intolerant of failure.
"I can't abandon the Eternals and the Xenomorphs, but I also have to deal with the Sentinel… My best option is to trap them in the Mirror Dimension. At least that would buy me some time."
With that decision made, Kaecilius stepped forward.
Powerful magic surged from his hands—a spell from the Kamar-Taj school.
But Reynolds, as if anticipating this move, grabbed Druig, then vanished in a blur, snatching up a few surviving Xenomorphs along the way. In an instant, he reappeared at a distance, standing tall and imposing.
"I've been expecting the Mirror Dimension," Reynolds sneered.
Boom!
A searing heat vision blast shot toward Kaecilius.
Kaecilius frowned, immediately conjuring a protective energy shield.
The battle continued for several more exchanges.
Kaecilius soon realized that Reynolds was even craftier than expected—it was as if someone was remotely guiding him, predicting his moves, and preparing countermeasures in advance.
It felt like he was fighting multiple opponents at once.
He glanced around—only a handful of half-dead black magicians remained, barely useful. Against ordinary superheroes, they were more than enough, but against Reynolds, they were utterly useless.
Reynolds' golden, energy-infused form streaked across the sky like a comet. Whenever he appeared, it was either to hurl a colossal, energy-cloaked punch carrying an unfathomable amount of force or to unleash heat vision that relentlessly cut through Kaecilius' magic.
When his energy ran low, he would retreat at lightning speed, only to return moments later, fully charged.
The battle caused massive destruction—randomly flung energy blasts and spells effortlessly tore through surrounding skyscrapers.
The chaos sent civilians into a frenzy of panic, but when they realized that Duncan's forces and the Xenomorphs were among the combatants, a strange sense of reassurance settled over them. They quickly took cover at a distance.
Some, fearless and eager for a story, even pulled out their recording devices to capture the battle from afar.
It seemed that Duncan's relentless campaign against vampires and his public battles had successfully shaped a favorable public image.
Of course, reality was far different from what they imagined.
"Who's giving you instructions?! There's no way someone like you could counter my magic so precisely!"
Kaecilius finally lost his patience. His face grew paler, and a sharp, excruciating pain gnawed at his gut.
Yet Duncan's people remained focused on their enemy, disregarding the collateral damage.
To them, eliminating threats protected more civilians in the long run. Failing to do so meant greater casualties in the future.
They had calculated the trade-off clearly, so they had no moral hesitation about their actions.
And as for Reynolds—he was an arrogant show-off with little regard for moral constraints.
Druig? Once, he might have cared about innocent lives, but now? If they couldn't become Xenomorphs, they no longer concerned him.
The battle raged on, with Druig relentlessly using his psychic abilities to interfere with Kaecilius' thoughts, forcing him into a defensive position.
Boom!
A powerful shockwave rocked the nearby streets.
A golden portal suddenly materialized.
Kaecilius showed no surprise—he simply cast a cold glance toward the opening.
Who would it be? Mordo? Wong?
It didn't matter, as long as it wasn't…
"Damn it!"
Kaecilius' expression twisted in fury and dread.
Instantly, he began conjuring a portal of his own, desperate to escape.
He even resorted to a powerful spell—The Path of Ekern, summoning dozens of illusionary duplicates of himself.
"Kaecilius, have you forgotten? I was the one who taught you that spell. Do you really think you can use it to escape from me?"
A bald woman, clad in a yellow sorcerer's robe, stepped onto the battlefield.
Kaecilius' face was extremely grim. Controlling countless clones, he conjured an endless number of energy whips, which surged forward, wrapping around the Ancient One.
Yet, the Ancient One remained unmoved. With a mere flick of her hands, the space around her shifted, warping in an eerie manner. Like a prism, fragments of space emerged one after another in rapid succession.
Hoggoth's Ancient Form!
This was one of the top two defensive spells in all of magic.
With a single move, the Ancient One neutralized all magical attacks and reversed the force, sending the countless prisms flying in all directions. The magic particles they struck instantly transformed into fluttering cyan butterflies.
Reynolds found the sight beautiful.
Kaecilius, on the other hand, felt as if he had fallen into an ice-cold abyss.
His body was just about to pass through the portal—if only he weren't facing Reynolds, who possessed super speed, and Duncan, a formidable enemy with psychic abilities.
Squelch!
In that split second, he missed his best chance to escape. The Ancient One had already locked him in place at the first opportunity.
Even without using the Time Stone, she was still a being of the Skyfather level. If a being of such caliber managed to seize an opportunity, Kaecilius would have no chance of turning the situation around.
"Ancient One! Why are you here?!"
Kaecilius was both furious and shocked, his face filled with unwillingness.
This was far too strange. First, he had encountered two enemies who seemed to know his magic inside and out. Then, the Ancient One had personally arrived.
He had been lying in wait to ambush Duncan, yet now, it felt as if he had walked straight into a perfectly laid trap against him.
At least, that was how Kaecilius saw it—he was convinced the Ancient One had joined forces with Duncan.
"Many people want you dead, Kaecilius. Your threat to this planet has only made more and more people dissatisfied with you."
The Ancient One's voice carried the same calm and serenity as always.
"If Dormammu devours Earth, there will be no more pain or separation!"
Kaecilius continued, his tone desperate.
"Besides, Duncan and his kind only want me dead because I'm a threat to Earth? Are you sure it's not because I plan to use the aliens for my own purposes?!"
"You've misunderstood cause and effect."
Duncan suddenly spoke.
"Many have considered exploiting the aliens, but very few dare act on it—especially someone of your caliber. Because you sought to act against us first, we had to find a way to eliminate you before you could create an even greater disaster. Those were Duncan's exact words, and he told me to pass them on to you. He also said… he's sending you to meet Dormammu."
"I will not die!"
Kaecilius gritted his teeth.
"In Dormammu's Dark Dimension, I will gain eternal life—free from despair and sorrow! Why are all of you trying to stop me? I'm doing what's best for the planet! I'm saving humanity!"
The Ancient One gazed at her former disciple with a peaceful look in her eyes.
Once, Kaecilius had been just like Mordo and Wong—filled with a sense of justice, wholly devoted to using magic to protect Earth and resist all demonic threats from other dimensions.
But after witnessing the fragility of mortals time and time again, coupled with Dormammu's constant temptations through dark magic, he had succumbed.
Without a doubt, it was a tragedy. The Ancient One felt somewhat responsible—she had failed to properly guide her disciple, allowing Dormammu to take advantage of his vulnerability.
"You will not be alone, whether in life or in death… Because one day, I too may come to see you."
"Oh, you will see me," Kaecilius sneered.
"You—who pretend to be righteous, yet secretly steal dark magic to extend your own life. Once you die, you'll meet me again in the Dark Dimension!"
The Ancient One remained silent. Without hesitation, she conjured the Sword of Vishanti and struck from a distance.
The magic-infused blade sliced through space, transcending time itself, freezing all surrounding particles—down to the atoms and molecules. It was an attack that would cleave Kaecilius in two.
Kaecilius, unwilling to accept his fate, unleashed his full power in resistance, summoning all his dark magic.
But at that moment, Reynolds and Duncan attacked as well.
From both the physical and mental planes, they launched a two-pronged assault, pushing Kaecilius into the abyss. His body disintegrated in an instant, vanishing into nothingness.
And thus, the most powerful dark sorcerer to plague Earth for years was finally laid to rest.
Reynolds understood how immensely powerful the Ancient One was, yet he felt no fear. Instead, he was filled with anticipation.
As for the accusations of stealing dark magic? Reynolds didn't care. To him, it was just a matter of curiosity.
"Reynolds, that's quite an impolite way to ask questions."
Duncan's voice echoed in Reynolds' mind.
The Ancient One seemed to have heard the exchange and spoke calmly:
"It's fine. Sooner or later, this truth will come to light. But for now, it's not yet time. I need you to help me keep it a secret, Duncan."
"I'd be happy to serve you, Sorcerer Supreme," Duncan replied.
"Elektra and the others did well. This has led to a successful collaboration—an excellent start. I believe using Kaecilius' life as a greeting gift will be to your liking."
Standing atop the Weyland Tower, Duncan gazed into the distance and spoke slowly.
The Ancient One glanced at Reynolds and Duncan.
"Perhaps… this is a terrible start. Dormammu will not let this go unanswered. Soon, he will launch a ferocious assault on Earth. But for now… let's return to the Sanctum Sanctorum."