Lance closed the book with a smooth motion and put it back in his pocket. "Too bad," Lance said lightly, though there was a glimmer of disappointment in his eyes. "You have no talent for the art of magic."
In Lance's mind, he couldn't help but imagine other possibilities. In some alternate realities, Tony Stark became the Sorcerer Supreme. However, in this universe, the man seemed to lack any magical talent.
But… does that really mean Tony can't harness magic at all?
What if Iron Man stopped relying entirely on technology and began to embrace magical elements? What if Tony combined magic with science—something that conventional sorcerers had never thought of?
Maybe one day, Tony could enchant his Iron Man armor, creating a mechanism capable of sensing and harnessing mystical energy. Or even crazier—perhaps Tony could create a new form of magic, based on the logic and principles of engineering that he mastered.
Who could say that Iron Man couldn't do what a Sorcerer does?
...
...
...
Metro-General Hospital remained bustling with activity as usual. Its corridors were busy, filled with doctors and nurses moving quickly, saving lives and caring for patients. The sound of footsteps blended with the hum of medical equipment, creating a symphony familiar to those who had worked there for a long time.
However, there was one corner of the hospital that felt different.
Outside the observation room, Strange stood still, dressed neatly in his doctor's uniform. His hair was impeccably styled, but his expression was filled with impatience mixed with disgust. Strange's hands were tucked into the pockets of his white coat, his sharp eyes observing the surgical procedure taking place in the operating room.
Strange had tried several times to persuade Christine to cancel the operation. Not because he underestimated Christine's good intentions, but because Strange knew—this was a surgery that was impossible to succeed.
Christine might be a dedicated doctor, but her surgical skills had never truly stood out. Even Nico, who was only one level below Strange in experience, could only give a success rate of about thirty percent. It wasn't just about technique, but also about facing unavoidable medical realities.
The best neurosurgeons in the hospital had declined this operation, realizing how slim the chances of success were. Yet, Christine took it on. For the sake of a little meaningless sympathy, according to Strange.
Christine's kindness, in Strange's view, was more akin to foolishness.
Strange felt annoyed. He disliked it when his good intentions were so easily dismissed. So now, Strange waited. Waiting for Christine's failure—and he had even prepared some sarcastic comments to remind Christine just how naive she was.
However, what happened was quite the opposite.
"Christine's technique is very stable..." Strange murmured softly, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Christine's hand movements were so precise. She avoided the dangerous nerves with extraordinary accuracy, just a few millimeters away from a fatal mistake.
Strange frowned.
"Christine has come a long way..."
Even with Strange's experience and expertise, he knew that such an operation could not be done easily. Yet, Christine was doing it. With an unusual calmness.
And there was one thing that puzzled Strange even more.
"A wound that large... should be bleeding more."
But the blood loss was minimal.
The operation that Strange believed would fail was going smoothly. Too smoothly.
Strange stared at the operating room with a stunned expression, as if his own mind could not accept the reality he had just witnessed.
Before long, the operating room door opened. Christine emerged, slightly out of breath, removing her mask and wearing a satisfied smile. Her eyes shone with pride.
Near the door, an elderly woman who had been waiting immediately stood up. The old woman's body trembled, her gaze filled with hope, but also fear of hearing bad news.
Christine offered a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, the operation went well."
The old woman sobbed with joy. "Thank you... thank you so much!" The wrinkled hands of the woman grasped Christine's tightly, as if the young doctor were the savior of her family.
However, the warmth lasted only a moment.
A cold voice broke the touching moment.
"A malignant glioma is the deadliest brain tumor," said a man in a nonchalant tone. "The old man's illness has already spread to other parts of his body. Even if the operation is successful, he only has a few days left."
The happiness on the old woman's face instantly faded. She turned to see a doctor with a flat expression coming out of the adjacent room—Stephen Strange.
Christine glared at Strange with sharp eyes. "Stephen, I remember you have three surgeries today."
Strange glanced at his watch without rushing. "It's still morning, I'm not in a hurry," Strange said lightly. Then, with a sarcastic tone, Strange added, "Christine, your hands are much steadier than before. Although this operation isn't particularly significant, at least it's a good experience for you."
Christine sighed, choosing to ignore Strange. She returned to comforting the elderly woman. "Ma'am, the operation was successful. Although it won't completely cure him, it will extend your husband's life for a few more years."
The elderly woman began to sob again, this time with gratitude. "Thank you, Dr. Palmer..."
As the elderly woman walked away unsteadily, Strange looked at Christine with a suspicious gaze.
"Christine, you're acting very strange."
"What?" Christine's heart raced. She maintained a calm expression, but inside, she was panicking.
Did Strange realize?
That Christine's success in the operation earlier was not just due to her medical skills…
But because of the help from the White Lantern Ring.
The White Lantern Ring had enhanced Christine's hand stability, ensuring that every surgical movement she made was perfect. The energy from the White Lantern Ring supplied vitality, making the old man's body stronger than it should have been.
Christine bit her lip, trying to stay calm. All she could do was hope that Strange didn't realize the truth behind the miracle that had just occurred.
This was a skill taught to Christine by the Spirit of the Lantern Ring. Spiritual Energy, or Reiryoku, flowed into her blood and could not be seen by the naked eye.
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