Chapter 67: Crazed
Blake never expected that the Ancient One would directly reveal the Time Stone.
In *Avengers: Infinity War*, Doctor Strange used the Time Stone to witness over 14 million possible futures.
And in *Avengers: Endgame*, when Banner went to find the Ancient One and asked to see Doctor Strange, the Ancient One immediately mentioned that he had arrived five years too early, and that Strange was likely a few blocks away performing surgery at that moment. This indicates that the Ancient One definitely had the ability to glimpse into the future.
If that were the case, she should be fully aware that Doctor Strange is her successor and the next guardian of the Time Stone. So why did she imply that she might hand the Time Stone over to him (Blake) in the future?
And then there's the so-called Time Variance Authority (TVA). Based on what Blake had seen in the *Loki* trailer before crossing over, and the things the Ancient One mentioned earlier, the TVA is supposed to capture anyone who disrupts the predetermined timeline.
For example, Loki, who was supposed to be taken to Asgard as a prisoner, but instead escaped with the Tesseract.
Undoubtedly, Blake himself had disrupted the timeline as well. So why hadn't the TVA come after him? Was it because of the system?
If the system could shield him from the TVA, why couldn't it also shield him from the Ancient One? What exactly had she seen in the future? Why was she so insistent that he follow Doctor Strange to Kamar-Taj to learn magic?
Previously, Blake had felt like he had a god's-eye view of the Marvel universe, but now it seemed like there were layers of fog obscuring his vision, and he would have to peel them back one by one!
He wanted to ask the system for advice, but it was still in the middle of an upgrade. Of all times to upgrade, why now?
"Ugh!!!!"
The more Blake thought about it, the more frustrated he became. He kicked a massive garbage bin—over a meter tall and nearly two meters wide—sending it, along with its contents, flying at least two stories high. A messy rain of trash began to fall from the sky.
'I'm done thinking about it. Whatever happens, happens. I'll take my time to grow stronger, and in the end, we'll see who can do anything to me!'
"Clang!!!"
Blake's rant concluded with the loud crash of the garbage bin hitting the ground, finally giving him some release from his pent-up frustration.
Deciding not to dwell on things he couldn't figure out, Blake comforted himself with the thought that, with the system in hand, he would eventually become strong enough that nothing would pose a threat to him.
As he reassured himself, he was about to leave the empty alley when he suddenly noticed a white man standing ahead, holding a knife and staring at him in a daze.
The man had two twisted pieces of toilet paper on his head and a bloodstained sanitary pad clearly visible. The knife he held had a few strands of spaghetti smeared with meat sauce hanging off it.
Judging by where he was standing, he had likely been hiding behind the large garbage bin, ready to rob Blake, but was now completely dumbfounded after witnessing the bin being kicked away.
Thin as a rail, the guy was probably a drug addict.
"Robbing me?" Blake asked as he stepped forward.
"No, you've got it wrong. I was eating!" The would-be robber, still dazed, lifted the knife with the spaghetti to show what he meant. His head swayed, causing the sanitary pad to flutter in the wind.
"Eating here?"
"Yes, the air's nice, don't you think?"
"Nice hat. Got any cash on you?"
"Fifty dollars!"
"Is that enough to take a cab to Stark Industries?"
"It is!"
"Hand it over! Thanks!"
Blake took the cash, and as he did, he casually patted the robber's shoulder.
"Crack!"
With a soft sound, it was clear that Blake's pat had fractured the man's shoulder blade.
Inside the New York Sanctum, the Ancient One, who had just projected an image of complete control and an air of mystique in front of Blake, now sat on the couch with a face full of worry after his departure.
"How could this happen? What exactly went wrong?"
The Ancient One muttered to herself as she sat there, deep in thought.
After a while, it seemed like she had made a decision. She sat cross-legged on the couch, forming a seal with her hands—one hand above and one below. Between her palms, the Time Stone hovered, emitting a soft green glow.
As the green light slowly spread, the Ancient One's body began to tremble violently, the speed of which increased rapidly. In a matter of moments, it looked as if countless duplicates of the Ancient One were overlapping in the same spot, leaving afterimages in the air.
Multiple versions of the Ancient One's face appeared at different angles, some in pain, some solemn, and some joyful. The faster the trembling and the more frequent the green light flickered, the more afterimages of the Ancient One there were.
When everything reached a peak, all the trembling, afterimages, and green light suddenly contracted and then expanded in a burst. Then, everything returned to calm.
"Ugh!"
The Ancient One spat out a mouthful of blood, her face full of disbelief. But then, a look of pure joy spread across her features.
"Hahahahahaha!"
If Blake had seen the Ancient One in this state, he would have thought she was a completely different person from the one he had just met. With blood at the corner of her mouth, sitting cross-legged on the couch and laughing madly, she seemed almost possessed.
But Blake didn't witness any of this. After robbing an unlucky mugger and getting fifty dollars off the pitiful man, he hailed a cab straight to Stark Industries' New York branch.
Though it was called a branch, after Tony Stark blew up the Los Angeles industrial building in a display of fireworks, more and more of the company's business operations had shifted to New York, the international financial center. As a result, this so-called branch had gradually become the de facto headquarters.
The cab dropped Blake off in front of the building, and just as he stepped out of the car, he heard a car horn honking nearby. A flashy dark red Acura NSX convertible pulled up beside him. Who else could it be but Tony Stark?
"I distinctly remember generously lending you my company's business car and driver. Why did you come back in a cab? You should know, I don't do generosity often."
"Don't mention it. I thought I'd be in there for a while, so I let the driver go. Didn't expect to be done so quickly," Blake shrugged, a bit helpless.
"It looks like your day hasn't been going too well. Get in, I'll take you somewhere that'll cheer you right up!" Tony patted the seat next to him.
"How about we take a different car? A convertible is too flashy, and I don't really like the color of this one—dark red, too attention-grabbing, Tony! Not really my style."
This car was a limited edition, one that money couldn't buy anymore. Blake's comment was just a way to tease Tony, remembering the way Tony had looked at him last time like he was a pauper.
"If you agree to help me with something, this car is yours. How about it? I told you, I don't do generosity often."
Blake's eyes lit up, and he immediately pushed Tony over to the passenger seat.
"Tony?"
"Yeah?"
"You know, when I was a kid, my parents told me that my hometown's specialty is a fruit called bayberry. Have you ever tried it? It's sweet and sour and really delicious. When it's ripe, it's the same color as this car. God, I love this color—it's the color of home!"
Tony: …
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